


Second in Command - Extras

by LetItRaines



Series: Second in Command [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetItRaines/pseuds/LetItRaines
Summary: A collection of extra scenes from Second in Command, including Emma’s POV from the original story and missing scenes from the sequel.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their first meeting:

Sometimes she misses America. She doesn’t miss her hometown, the place where she’s now an outcast when she was once a valued citizen, but she misses her actual _home_. She misses the fact that she could walk to the beach from her house, and she misses having a house with a backyard, her old swing set rusting in the grass below the oak tree where many a childhood memory was made. She misses the place where she grew up, the magic of the small town, even if it’s not so magical anymore.

 

She misses the weather during the spring. Sure, it rains, but there are more sunny days than anything else. Here, in the midst of London, it’s like it rains more than the sun shines. Her hair is constantly frizzing from the droplets that fall from the sky, and she owns more rain boots than anything else, which is odd for a girl who once wore nothing but sandals and white tennis shoes, maybe the occasional ankle booties that were more for looks than practicality. Now she dresses so that her feet don’t get wet.

 

On days like today, where the sky is overcast and the rain makes the street look like nothing more than a blurry image, all she wants is to curl up in her bed and watch a movie, something cheesy and romantic and entirely unrealistic because romance doesn’t work out like it does in the movies, not for girls like her who are damaged goods. But she can’t do that because she has to work, her parents giving her more responsibility at the pub than before ever since she decided she didn’t want to go to college – or university as they call it here.

 

So she pulls on a pair of her favorite skinny jeans and pulls her hair up in a high ponytail, thinking that she needs to get it trimmed because it still brushes the middle of her back, before heading downstairs and greeting Will as he opens up for the night.

 

As the night goes on a few people filter in and out, but it’s mostly empty tonight, most likely due to the rain and the fact that it’s a Tuesday. That’s when the chime over the door goes off and she sees a guy with a baseball cap on walk in, jeans soaked through so that they cling to his thighs, showcasing the muscles underneath – she doesn’t stare, she swears – and water absolutely rolling off of him. She’d feel bad for the guy, obviously surprised by the downpour outside, but then he’s walking across the pub, water following in his trail, and sliding into one of their booths.

 

He’s going to fuck up the leather if he sits like that, and they can’t afford to reupholster the material. Plus, it’s the same material Grandpa put in, and she never wants that to change. So she’s at least going to get him some towels to sit on and dry off with, but it’s when she’s walking toward the stairway to their apartment that he turns his head, a flash of blue eyes and perfectly trimmed stubble appearing underneath the bill of his cap.

 

 _Holy shit_ , she thinks, mouth gaping open at what she’s sure is a dream because that can’t be who she thinks he is. Why the hell would he be here? Shouldn’t he have security or like a cape and a crown or something? How the hell did a prince, a fucking prince, end up in her parents’ pub absolutely dripping with rain water?

 

She doesn’t quite know what possesses her to do what she does next, but the guy’s obviously a little down on his luck – if that’s even possible – and she doesn’t want him getting sick and dying of pneumonia only for that to be traced back to her. She’s not here to get blamed for something else she didn’t do. So she takes a breath, squaring her shoulders, and walks over to him.

 

“Up,” she begins, raising her hands to demonstrate what she means like the guy can’t understand English, and wow this was not her nicest first impression.

 

Instead of standing he raises his head to look at her, and while she’s not one to fawn over the two princes like every other girl she knows, she can admit that he’s handsome, even if he’s soaking wet. Maybe especially if he’s soaking wet.

 

When he doesn’t respond, she says it again. “Up.”

 

“Just…just what do you think you’re doing, lass?”

 

Did his voice just squeak??

 

She nods her head to the booth and crosses her arms over her chest, and why is she being so stern? _You don’t trust men_ , a little voice in her head reminds her. _You’re just trying to help someone out_ , another voice says. “You’re going to ruin the leather with how soaked through your clothes are, and while this place isn’t the palace, it doesn’t mean you can just ruin our booths.”

 

Shit, she didn’t mean for that to sound so rude.

 

Something flashes in his eyes, and she realizes that it’s probably concern over the fact that he’s been recognized. But he’s getting out of the booth anyways, towering above her as she looks up at him as she’s trying to hold her ground over whatever the hell she’s just gotten herself into.

 

She doesn’t know what’s come over her because she’s grabbing his forearm, his skin warm against her fingertips despite the water, and leading him up to her apartment. That’s safe right? She’s not going to get murdered by a prince. Would he even get arrested for that? How does that work? She’s pretty sure his dad doesn’t even have to have a driver’s license, so the laws are a little murky.

 

Once they’re upstairs and neither of them have spoken, _she doesn’t even know what to say_ , she releases his arm to get some of her dad’s clothes. Her dad’s definitely a size or two larger than him, so she finds a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt knowing that he can wear those without any problem.

 

When she gets back to the living room, he’s staring at a picture of she and her parents during her fifteenth’s birthday dinner, his fingers running across the frame as he holds it.

 

“In case your detective skills aren’t great,” she tells him, startling him so that he puts the frame back down with what can be described as butter fingers, “those are my parents. And obviously me.” She walks over to him and hands him the clothes. “Here. Put these on. They’re my dad’s, and they should fit you. I can put your clothes in the dryer if you want. We have one here, just got it last year.”

 

Why in the world did she feel the need to add that last part? He doesn’t care about their appliances or when they got them.

 

“I, um, thanks,” he tells her, taking the clothes and scratching his beard. “That’s really kind of you miss…”

 

“Nolan,” she answers. “I’m Emma Nolan.” Oh crap what does she call him? “It’s nice to meet you, your Highness.”

 

His face recoils, a look of disgust passing over him quickly before disappearing. “Please,” he says, “just call me Killian.”

 

She’s not one to swoon over a guy with an accent, but his voice is deep and the words roll off his tongue. She understands why there are always stories about him with women. The accent (though that is normal here) and the looks and the whole prince thing.

 

She can’t help but laugh at thinking of how her mom would absolutely flip out if she was here. “My mother might murder me if she heard me say that, but okay, _Killian_.”

 

“Can, I, uh, can I just change in one of these rooms?”

 

“Bathroom is the first door on the left.”

 

While he’s changing, she start’s to realize how weird this situation is. It kind of feels like one of those Hallmark movies her mom watches, but more real. Like, she’s not going to fall in love with the guy and change the monarchy with her sparkling personality and magic vagina.

 

Did she just think the words _magic vagina_? That’s from a movie, isn’t it? She doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter.

 

She needs something to do to occupy her time and her hands after starting the dryer, walking to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. She thinks of making it the old fashioned way, but instant will do for now.

 

“Hot chocolate? No tea?”

 

Shit, she didn’t even know he’d come back, and wow she’s glad she wasn’t holding a pot of scalding hot water because that would have burned had she dropped it.

 

“Well, that’s very stereotypical British of you,” she jokes, turning around to look at him and sprinkling some cinnamon into her hot chocolate. She doesn’t know if he’d like it, so she leaves his plain. “But I guess you are as stereotypical British as they come.”

 

“Are you not British, love?”

 

 _Oh wow, dumb question, Killian_ , she thinks, scrunching up her nose to keep her from saying that out loud.

 

“Well, if my American accent is anything to go by, I’d say no.” His cheeks flush red and her face melts, just the tiniest bit, into a soft smile at the fact that she just embarrassed him a bit. “Dad’s American. Mom’s British. I’ve got dual citizenship. Was raised in America until a little after I turned eighteen, so we’ve been here for about two years now.  _Came across the pond,”_ she’s using a cheeky accent now, and she hopes he doesn’t get mad at that, “when my mom’s dad died, and he left us the pub.”

 

“That’s quite the story, Emma.”

 

It is, but she doesn’t like talking about her history too much, the recent bad far outweighing the earlier good. So she shrugs her shoulders. “Eh. It is what it is.”

 

She doesn’t know how, but they dissolve into a good conversation. He doesn’t seem too keen on sharing things about himself, and she can’t tell if that’s just because of who he is compared to her or if maybe he’s just having a bad night. She seems to decide on the latter, the bags around his eyes not something people his age normally have, so she just talks about herself, not something she likes to do but she doesn’t mind too much tonight.

 

He will chime in when she says something he likes. They watch a lot of the same shows and read a lot of the same books, fantasy series and comedies seemingly his favorites as well. He’s funny, she realizes, and he never mentions anything about his position in life. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was a normal guy. She likes him, thinks he might actually be an interesting person, but she knows that tonight is most likely a one time thing. She’ll probably never see him again.

 

When the dryer dings to let her know that his clothes are dry, a pang of disappointment rushes through her, but she ignores it as she gives him his clothes and he redresses. It’s been a nice night, and it’ll be a cool story to tell one day down the road when she and Ruby are watching him get married to some duchess from Norway.

 

“So you can’t stay up here, but I can’t technically just kick you out, especially now that you’re not going to ruin our booths with your wet clothes. So you can either stay down in the pub or go someplace else. It doesn’t matter to me.”

 

Something seems to flash across his eyes, but she doesn’t know what. Surprisingly enough, he ends up sitting at the bar counter nursing a rum and talking to her until closing time. When it’s time for him to go, he gives her a soft smile, eyes bright even in the dimness of the pub, and walks out the door telling her _it was nice to meet you, Emma_ with a kiss on the back of her hand _._

 

When she locks the door behind him, she collapses her back against the wooden frame, tightly closing her eyes and before looking down at where he kissed her hand, whispering to herself, “what the hell just happened?”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little baby bit of Emma's point of view of her twenty first birthday, which is a flashback in chapter three of the main story :D

Sometimes Emma thinks her life isn’t real. Some of the things that happen to her just don’t seem real or believable or things that happen to normal people. Like, her first serious boyfriend was an asshole who tried to let her be the fall guy for his crime (she’s totally not still petty that he never got locked up), and her second boyfriend is a fucking prince. Like, how polar opposite can one girl get?

 

At least, she thinks that Killian is her boyfriend. They haven’t really defined things, and it’s not that she _has_ _to have_ a label, but she’s not sure what to call him when she’s talking about him with other people. And by other people she means her mom and dad. She can’t tell anyone else, which is fine, better even for both she and Killian, but she just knows that Ruby would blow a lid if she knew that Emma was dating a prince. Or that she was just dating anyone, really. Ruby’s convinced Emma’s going to end up as an old maid even though she’s only twenty. She’s still got plenty of time to end up as an old maid thank you very much.

 

Killian is asleep beside her, or on her really, little puffs of breath coming out of him and hitting against the skin of her stomach from where his head rests. He had a rough day, something about his father not being pleased with him going off script at a garden party earlier today. Most of the time Emma doesn’t think too much about who Killian is outside of the two of them, so she forgets that he lives this life full of structure and traditions. It’s insane to her and absolutely nothing like all of the movies she’s ever watched or books she’s read. She doesn’t understand a lot of it, but Killian seems to always be running what’s polite and proper over and over again in his mind before acting on something. She hates it, hates that he restricts himself, so there’s nothing she loves more than when it’s just the two of them and he can simply be her Killian.

 

And she does love him. She didn’t want to, not really, past scars still red against her skin, but it just kind of happened. Killian kind of happened, and sometimes she can’t believe it. She can’t believe how they clicked together, even if parts of it came slowly between arguments and banter and stilted conversations that disappeared as they got to know each other better through late nights and whispered conversations across the bar counter.

 

He’s incredibly witty, always making her laugh with his jokes and his innuendos, and it’s been a long time since anyone other than her family has made her laugh like that. He’s also incredibly frustrating, but it’s just because he’s prone to teasing her, a defense mechanism that she uses as well, and frankly, she lives for the back and forth between them. Most of all, he’s good. He’s a good person in a world full of people who aren’t, and she knows it’s because he’s meant to do wonderful things from his position in life. If there’s anyone little boys and girls should look up to, it’s Killian.

 

She runs her fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands between her fingers as his breathing becomes more erratic, a sure sign he’s waking up from his nap. The surest sign, though, is when he presses a kiss to her stomach and continues until he reaches the valley between her breasts.

 

“Hey,” she whispers, her fingers still running through his hair, “do you feel better now that you’ve slept?”

 

“Immensely. Thank you for lying down with me.”

 

“I don’t have to work until later, so there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.”

 

“Than letting me rest my heavy head on your lap?”

 

“It’s not heavy. Just big.”

 

He laughs, the hot air of his breath sending shivers across her skin before he rolls off of her to the his own side of the bed. “So your birthday is next week, my darling?”

 

“Yep,” she pops the p as he reaches down to grab her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. He’s so affectionate with her, always touching her in some way, and she always thought she would hate being with someone like that but she finds that she doesn’t. She likes the way he is with her, and she finds that she’s learning how to return the affection. “You’re coming to my party, right? Like, after most everyone has left?”

 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Emma. You’re my girlfriend, and I want to be here for everything that I can be here for.”

 

Such a sweet sentiment, but she mostly does a little dance because she has an answer to her earlier pondering. It’s like he can read her mind sometimes, and it would be freaky if it didn’t give her the answers to her questions.

 

Killian has to leave later that evening, kissing her goodbye while she gets ready for her shift, and she’s already a bit sad that she won’t see him for a week. His visits are regular but also so sporadic, and she cannot even begin to imagine what it’ll be like when he goes on his overseas tours for more than a week.

 

Her week passes as normal, Ruby coming over to help with the final preparations for her twenty first birthday party. It’s stupid, really, to be carrying over an American tradition when she’s been able to legally drink here for years, but sometimes she misses getting to do all of the things she’d always thought about doing when she was a teenager and daydreaming about her future instead of paying attention in her geometry class.

 

She had her last few years of being a teenager taken away from her, so she can have a party for her birthday if she wants to.

 

Ruby had also insisted, always wanting any excuse to have a good time, and Emma was truly excited. So excited only to wake up the morning of her birthday and having to use the pub’s restrooms because her dad apparently has food poisoning and is suffering from it in the only bathroom in the apartment. So her day goes from excited anticipation to hanging out in her room by herself because her parents made the decision to close everything down in case the food came from them. It…sucks if she’s honest with herself. But it’s just a bad day, and no one is suffering more than her father.

 

Her mom and Ruby make the most of it, gifting Emma with new sweaters and a new pair of boots, while also stuffing their faces with pizza while watching a marathon of Halloween movies in the living room before Ruby goes home for dinner.

 

Her dad’s food poisoning is particularly unpleasant the later the day goes on, and when she can’t listen to it anymore through the thin walls of the apartment, she makes the decision to hang out downstairs. She can just watch Netflix on her phone or something.

 

She gets lost in her phone when the chime over the pub’s entrance goes off, and shit she didn’t lock it back from where she took the trash out earlier, but to her surprise and delight, it’s simply Killian walking through the door, a smile on his face that has to rival her own because _oh is she excited to see him_.

 

“Killian,” she breathes out, swinging her legs back and forth from her position on the bar top, “what are you doing here?”

 

She knew he was coming. She did. They’d talked about it and planned for it, but somehow she’d forgotten to tell him about all of the events of the day that led her to sitting in the pub all alone. Usually she’s not that forgetful, but sometimes things do slip through the cracks.

 

“Where is everyone, love?”

 

Right, so just going to ignore her question for his own. It’s totally what she would do if she walked in somewhere expecting there to be a party only to find one person sitting in an empty bar watching Netflix on their phone and nursing a glass of water. At least his question is a valid one. She already knew the answer to her own.

 

“Would you believe,” she begins, hopping down from her place on the bar top, gracefully landing on both feet in a move much more athletic than she usually is, “that my dad got food poisoning and he made us close up because he didn’t know if the bad food had come from us or not? And also because he’s sick, and we didn’t have enough staff to open tonight with me off the clock.”

 

She doesn’t know why she didn’t jump him as soon as he walked in, a week far too long to be away from him, but she very calmly walks up to this beautiful man of hers and grabs the lapels of his jacket while he places his hands on her hips. He’s always so warm, and she can feel the heat of him through her jeans as his thumbs manage to find the bare skin above her waistline.

 

“I would believe that because that’s a bloody ridiculous thing to make up otherwise.”

 

She sticks her tongue out at him, and, wow, mature Emma.

 

“Plus,” he moves to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, “I know you were really looking forward to your party, and I don’t believe you sitting on top of a bar counter alone drinking a glass of water really constitutes for a happy birthday, now does it?”

 

“I would say probably not.”

 

“But I have a thought on how we could make it…happier.”

 

He’s got an eyebrow raised as he squeezes her hip, and wow he can be such a gentleman most of the time only to not so vaguely suggest sex five minutes after walking in the door. She can’t help but laugh at him and the offended look on his face as her entire body shakes as the laughter rolls through her.

 

“Kil – Killian,” she gasps out, trying to get a hold of her breathing. “Killian, I just told you that my dad had food poisoning. Do you know what’s involved in food poisoning?” He just nods his head at her, her meaning slowly sinking in. “It’s a lot of gross stuff. Why do you think I’m sitting down here by myself instead of upstairs? It’s gross and we share a bathroom and in no way do I think I could be even remotely turned on right now.”

 

I mean, she might could. She loves him, and he’s also incredibly hot. She could be persuaded, but she’s too busy laughing right now to really think about it.

 

She finally manages to calm herself down, but then she looks at him and can’t help but giggle. He’s ridiculous, and the pout on his face has her thoroughly distracted.

 

“God, if I didn’t love you so much I would have kicked you out for even suggesting that we have sex tonight.”

 

She doesn’t even realize what she’s said until Killian’s entire body tenses and his grip on her hip tightens and _oh fuck_ she did not just tell him she loves him like that.

 

She thought he felt the same way, but he must not, so she starts to back away and go bury her head in the sink of something, but then he’s grabbing her wrist and pulling her against him, his lips roughly crashing into hers as her arms wrap around his neck. The noise he makes in the back of his throat is something she thinks she’ll remember forever. He’s such a good kisser, and it almost has her forgetting that she accidentally told him she loves him until he pulls back and rests his forehead against hers, his incredibly blue eyes staring into hers.

 

“I love you, Emma Nolan,” he whispers before kissing her again, and she’s both relieved and overjoyed that the man she loves also loves her. “And you can feel free to tell me you love me anytime you want. Not just while rejecting my advances.”

 

God, he’s so stupid, but she loves him and thinks he’s funny, so she laughs at him before resting her head against his shoulder and slapping his chest. “But what if that’s the only time I mean it? Because I feel like that’s going to happen a lot.”

 

She smirks at him before reaching up to caress his cheek with her knuckles. “I love you, Killian.” She wiggles out of his arms, suddenly remembering the uneaten cake in the fridge, completely disregarding the fact that they just had a relationship milestone because, you know, cake. “Now would you like to help me consume this birthday cake that’s sitting in the fridge? And don’t worry. It’s store bought, so the only thing we’ll be getting from it is a seriously delicious sugar high.”

 

She knows that Killian is a notoriously healthy eater while she is not, but he sits beside her on the countertop eating the cake directly from its platter as he tells her about his day. She cannot believe that she accidentally told him that she loves him tonight. She’s glad that it happened now, but she thought she might as well melt into a puddle of liquid Emma at the moment.

 

She didn’t want to ever love again, not if it was going to be anything like last time, but she’s known from the very beginning that this is nothing like last time. This is like nothing she ever could have expected, and even if she probably should have put on the breaks and gone a bit slower, she doesn’t want to. She wants to go full speed ahead with this wonderful, wonderful man.

 

“What are you thinking about, my love?” Killian questions as he knocks his shoulder against hers, and she likes, no loves, the addition of the “my” in front of his usual love.

 

“Just how good this cake is.”

 

“Aye, it’s delicious. Though I don’t know about us eating this much in one sitting.”

 

“Live a little, Killian,” she teases before swiping her hand through the icing and smearing it all over his face.

 

She should have known better, though, because he immediately grabs at her waist and lays her down on the counter before caging her in, his face tantalizing close to hers. And then he’s burying his face in her neck, his scruff tickling her and causing her to dissolve into a fit of giggles even as he starts kissing the skin there, sucking at her pulse point before pulling back and kissing her lips. He tastes like cake and sugar and icing, and it’s wonderful.

 

“Have I told you that I loved you today, darling?”

 

“I could do to hear it again.”

 

“I love you, Emma.”

 

“I love you, too, Killian.”

 

It’s the best birthday she’s ever had, despite its rocky start, and she really hopes that Killian sticks around for all of her future ones.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Emma's POV of parts of chapter thirteen aka the proposal chapter. It's got some insight from Emma and some, uh, some smut. So I hope you enjoy.

Emma’s been living in a palace for over half of a year now, dating a prince for five years before that, and been a public figure for quite some time, but there are just some things you never get used to. When she looks at Killian, he’s all that she sees, just the man who she loves and who loves her. Yes, she’s aware of his family and the expectations placed upon him. She’s aware of the money and the privilege, but she doesn’t care. It’s nice, but she doesn’t care.

 

But right now she’s lying in a canopy bed in a villa on a private beach in Seychelles in the middle of January when she’s used to working at this time of year. They just got here a few hours ago, and she doesn’t know a way to describe the place as anything other than beautiful. It’s an actual paradise, and she’s been antsy to get away from everything and just _be_ with Killian.

 

As happy as she is, it’s been a horrible few months. Well, that’s not necessarily true. It’s been a wonderful few months with some truly horrible moments. She’s finally living with Killian and getting to be a normal couple who functions in everyday life together. It’s been nice. Yeah, they get into little arguments, and sometimes she feels like she wants to strangle Killian when he complains that she needs to put her dishes up immediately instead of just letting her wash her bowl when she’s finished watching the show that’s on. But they mostly get along, and she knew that they would.

 

He’s…everything to her. She'd go through hell for him, and she basically already has. She learned at an early age not to put all of her eggs in one basket, having done that already, and as much as she tried not to do that with Killian at the beginning, she did it anyways. This time, though, is not a mistake. He’s it for her, and she knows that he feels the same way about her. They’re in this for the long haul, and she knows it. Hell, they’ve talked about it enough times. How could she not know?

 

But it’s not just the conversations they have about their future. It’s the way that he treats her and acts around her and shows his undying love for her. He’s always checking on her, making sure that she’s okay when they’re entering the uncharted territories of his family. God, they’ve been through some shit with his family. She could probably fill the Thames with her tears and build a bridge to cross it with the emotions that have been lodged in her throat. She stills feels the aftereffects of the words Albert cursed her with before Christmas. Sometimes it’ll just hit her out of nowhere, and it’s like Killian just _knows_. He’ll lay a kiss to her temple or hold her hand, just something to become connected to her and let her know that she’s not alone, that they’re going through this together.

 

But Albert not included, his family has been wonderful as of late. Abigail and Allison have been her saving graces throughout this whole transition, offering their help and their love nearly every day. Even if they’re both married to the men who once caused her to feel such shame for simply being who she is, she’s gone to them simply to have a friend who can maybe understand what she’s going through.

 

But Brennan and Liam, that’s the most complicated story in the world. Brennan came around to her much more quickly, seemingly understanding where he went wrong not just as a King but as a human being. Liam obviously took a bit longer, his prejudices against she and Killian much greater. It fucking hurt to be viewed that way by Killian’s family, but it didn’t just hurt her. It hurt Killian, too. She’s watched the storms in his eyes for years as he’s been tormented by his life. Now, though, she sees a lightness in his eyes. She doesn’t see stormy clouds filled with thunder and hatred and hurt. She sees happiness as he laughs with his brother or sings Christmas carols with his father or chats with his mother as they drink tea and watch the sun set.

 

It’s like the stress lines of his face are fading away, and for all of the shit they’ve been through, it fills her with joy to know that he’s so incredibly happy and that she is, too.

 

She’s happy and awake before Killian for one of the rare times in their lives, but it’s like the ocean breeze woke her, the chill of the ocean air causing her to shiver and wake…and then not fall back asleep. She hasn’t bothered to move from bed, though. Instead she’s absentmindedly running her hands over Killian’s arm as he sleeps.

 

Well, she thought he was asleep.

 

“I’m still going to be here if you blink, Nolan.”

 

He startles her as she’s so lost in her thoughts, and she rolls her eyes in response before deciding to snuggle into him and rest her head on his shoulder as she wraps her arms around his waist to feel his warmth and just be closer to him.

 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

 

She’s perfect, shaking her head before nuzzling further into his neck until he noses at her forehead to make her look up at him.

 

“So you’re simply being extra affectionate this morning?”

 

“You are incredibly warm today, and while I’m loving this whole open concept feel of this place, us not closing the windows last night was not our most brilliant plan.”

 

He sighs before wrapping his arm around her and under her top to rub circles at her back. His skin is so warm where hers feels like ice, and her entire body practically sighs at the feeling of his skin on hers.

 

“Well,” he begins before moving his head down so that he can lay one on her, a different kind of heat filling her body, “I think we can change the temperature with a little bit of physical _activity_.”

 

She makes a weak protest about neither of them having brushed their teeth, something that has never stopped them before as Killian points out, and they dissolve into a mess of limbs and lips and pleasure that has her sighing in happiness even if her boyfriend can be a cocky asshole when he teases her.

 

She knows that they’re spending the rest of the day out on the beach before having dinner tonight, so she lets the sun beat down on her skin, warming her as they lounge in their chairs and she reads her book. Killian’s acting a bit…off today. It’s not very noticeable, but she knows when a hair on his head is out of place, and there’s definitely something off today. A part of her thinks he might propose. She knows he’s going to someday. She just doesn’t know when or how, and as happy as she’d be for Killian to ask her to marry her while they’re sitting in the living room on hour eight of watching television on a day off, it would be a very Killian thing to propose on a trip like this. So it’s not that she’s expecting it, but she really, desperately wants it to happen.

 

She loves him so damn much that it hurts sometimes thinking about her feelings for him, and while she could live the rest of her days as his girlfriend, she wants to marry him. She wants to marry him and have children with him and grow old and wrinkly and gray as they snap at each other for having the television volume turned too loudly. So yeah, she’d probably like for him to ask her to marry him at some point within the next ten years…or ten days.

 

She can feel his gaze on her as she tries to go back to reading her book, but she can’t focus when he’s staring at her like this.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You’re staring again.”

 

“It’s difficult not to stare at you.”

 

God, what a charmer. She can’t deal with him sometimes, but her heart also beats in her chest a little bit faster every time he flirts with her like they’ve just begun dating. She hopes he never stops doing that, and that she doesn’t either.

 

She crawls over and into his side because what’s a little extra body heat when you’re already sweating a bit at the beach. She’ll probably make him sweat a little more from the way she’s running her legs up and down his and pushing her breasts up into his chest. If he can rile her up, she sure as hell can do the same.

 

They end up reading her book together. Well, mostly Killian teases her about the fact that she’s reading such a trashy beach novel that’s basically like reading a book with Fabio on the cover without actually having him on the cover, but it’s nice and relaxing and has her forgetting about their dinner tonight.

 

She’s almost positive that Killian is going to propose by the time dinner is over, but he doesn’t. She can see him chickening out, opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something. He never does though, and when he asks her if she wants to go for a walk, she knows that he’s nervous. He walks to calm himself down, and obviously he’s nervous about something.

 

All of these horrible things flash through her mind because what if she’s just being conceited about him proposing? What if something horrible is happening, and he’s just trying to find a way to tell her?

 

She shakes those thoughts out of her mind as Killian holds her hand and the sand softens beneath her feet and between her toes.

 

“You know,” Killian begins, shocking her out of her thoughts, “the day I met you I was pissed beyond belief at my father. I don’t even remember what about, but it led me to going on one of my walks and to meeting this fiery blonde lass who has just…who has just become my entire world. So you could say I like my walks like this.”

 

Something lodges in her throat while she fights back the tears because somehow she just knows. _She knows._

 

“Emma. I have loved you for five years, four months, and seventeen days…”

 

“Did you count?”

 

She’s totally ruining the moment, and she has to shut up but she may love him a little more for figuring out the exact number of days he’s loved her.

 

“Of course,” Killian confirms, stopping their walk so that he can stand in front of her, the black night making his hair blend in with the sky. “I have loved you for that specific amount of days, so long that I cannot remember what it’s like not to love you. You’re everything to me. You’re the love of my life and my partner in everything. You’re brave and you’re kind and you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

 

Killian bends down to perch himself on one knee. He hasn’t even asked yet, and she thinks her entire body is going to burst of happiness at what’s about to happen. It’s been a long time coming, and she still kind of feels like it can’t be real. She nods her head up and down to encourage him, but she also nods her head to encourage herself that her body isn’t going to combust at this exact moment.

 

“You’re it, my love, and…hold on, I’ve got to get the ring out of my shoe.” Killian reaches down to take his left shoe off, but the heel gets caught and he can’t quite get it. He looks so incredibly frustrated, and she can’t help herself from laughing. It doesn’t feel right to be standing anymore, and she just wants to be near him, so she squats down in front of him, and when he sees her, he grabs her face and kisses her, their lips moving together in perfect rhythm.

 

When they part, their foreheads stay together, and when she speaks, her lips still brush against his. “Killian, ask me.”

 

He says the words, but they feel more like a dream than anything else. It’s not though. It’s very, very real.

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

She nods her head and kisses him again, and is this how proposals usually go? She feels like they’re usually a bit faster and simpler, but she doesn’t care. This is perfect.

 

“Yes, Killian, of course. A thousand times yes.”

 

Her knees dig a little more into the sand as she cups his face and kisses every bit of skin that she can reach because she loves him so damn much. Like, it’s insane how much she can’t describe how in love she is.

 

“Bloody hell, you said yes.”

 

“Did you think I’d say otherwise?”

 

She can’t imagine him not knowing how much she loves him and that there was no way she’d say anything but yes.

 

“No,” he laughs before he grabs her left hand and slides the ring onto her finger. She totally forgot about the ring. “But this is nerve wracking, sweetheart. I’ve felt like I was going to pass out all day.”

 

He has been on edge all day. Her suspicions earlier were right. She laughs before she takes her hand and holds it up against him to look at the ring for the first time. It’s beautiful. There’s no other way to describe it, and even if she doesn’t wear much jewelry other than gifts Killian gives her, she knows that this ring is right. This marriage is right. She’s never been more sure of anything.

 

“Babe, this is beautiful.” She cups his cheeks just because she wants to be as near to him as possible. “You’re beautiful, and I love you.”

 

A chuckle passes through his lips, and his laugh is one of her favorite things in the world.

 

“I love you.”

 

She sighs as she stares at him, content and happy and perfect. And she also really wants to call her mom.

 

“Can I call my mom?”

He barks out a laugh before tugging her into him with such a force that their teeth clack together in their kiss, his hands threading into her hair while her hands grab the collar of his shirt, little whimpers emanating from her throat as he moans into the kiss, not breaking apart until she pushes him back on the sand so that her entire body is covering his.

 

 She’s breathing heavily, harsh pants that match his own as their foreheads press together, his nose pushing into her cheek as hers does the same. “Is that what you wanted to call your mum for?”

 

 She shakes her head against him, her nose brushing over his while he moves his hands down to hold onto her hips. “We’re getting  _married_ ,” she sighs against his lips. “Babe, we’re actually going to do it.”

 

 “I know,” he grins. “I cannot wait to marry you, Emma. Absolutely cannot wait.”

 

 “I can’t either.”

 

They practically sprint back to the villa, stopping every now and then to kiss the other as harshly as they can while they laugh and smile into it. She doesn’t know the last time she felt this giddy, and she doesn’t care to think about it too much. They don’t even make it to the bedroom before undressing, stopping in the living room to strip off their clothes without ceremony. There’s no being soft and loving when she wants him so much that if she doesn’t have him in the very near future she might burst.

 

She keeps thinking she might burst tonight. It’s a good thing even if it doesn’t sound that way.

 

“Do you want to keep going to the bedroom?” Killian gasps against her lips while she keeps chasing after him.

 

“No, the couch is fine.”

 

“Good.”

 

He backs the two of them up until his calves hit the couch, and when he falls down onto it, she almost topples down on top of him, only stopping herself by bracing herself on her hands on either side of his thighs. She was planning on just getting down to the main event, but her face lands right above his cock, and well, how could she resist?

 

She takes him in hand, and as lucky as she is in a lot of ways, she really hit the jackpot when it comes to their sex life and Killian’s very prominent package. He’s not quite hard yet, but she knows that with a few strokes of her hand, he’ll be standing at attention in no time.

 

“L-love, what – you don’t have to do that right now.”

 

“I know,” she whispers before her tongue circles his tip, and the guttural groan he lets out runs straight to her core. “But you know I can’t resist.”

 

At that, she licks down his length, the taste salty on her tongue, while her hands still work at his base, and after licking along the vein, she takes him in her mouth and works at him until he’s grunting and groaning and panting and being fucking hot.

 

“Emma, stop.”

 

“What?” she asks, her mouth popping when she releases him.

 

“I want to come inside you, love. Maybe we can do that later, aye?”

 

He looks so pained and yet so earnest, and he really is making a very good point here because pushing her thighs together could only do so much for her.

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

“C’mere, love.”

 

He pulls her up from the ground until her knees rest on either side of his thighs, his cock brushing against her flesh, and _damn_. He pulls her in for a fierce kiss before she can do anything else, tilting her head so they can both get more access to each other, and he tastes like his wine from earlier. But he also just tastes like Killian.

 

“I love you,” she moans into his mouth when they break apart. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too, darling.” He snakes his hand under her thighs without her realizing it until his fingers brush through her folds and the both of them fall forward at the contact. “You’re always so ready for me. So wet. I’d love to taste you right now.”

 

She’d really like that. Just not right now.

 

“Later, remember?”

 

“Aye, later.”

 

He guides himself to her entrance as she moves to sink down onto him as he fills her up and it feels so fucking good, pleasure coursing through her at just being connected with him like this.

 

“You’re so tight, love. So perfect for me.”

 

Killian is the most well-spoken man in the world, and his dirty talk is like nothing she’s ever experienced before. It almost seems wrong that a man so sweet and loving can be so crude, but she loves it. And he knows that she loves it, always saying just the right thing to turn her on and let her experience pleasure above his own. He’s…amazing. There just aren’t other words for it. She’s thinking that a lot today, too. Maybe there really just aren’t words to describe him.

 

He starts thrusting up into her, and she can do nothing but lean forward and cup his face while kissing him, the sounds of the lips and their skin slapping together mixing in with the sounds of the ocean outside. He’s so warm inside of her, and each thrust pushes her higher and makes her breath hitch when he starts hitting just the right spot like she knew he would.

 

“Oh, fuck,” she moans when his thrusts increase and his hands start helping her move her hips with each motion. “Just – just like that, babe.”

 

“I know, love. I know.”

 

When she comes she has to bury her head into his shoulder to muffle her moan of his name instead of simply crying out, and she knows that the fluttering of her walls will hurry him along even as she’s simply still trying to come back to herself. His thrusts are a bit erratic now and she starts rolling her hips at a more furious pace to help him along before he spills himself up into her and whispers his love for her against her neck.

 

She calls her mom later after they’re sated and happy and decidedly more dressed because it just feels wrong calling her mom while naked. Everything goes well, besides her mom thinking she’s pregnant (like, what the hell mom?), and she’s just elated at being able to share this joy with her lifelong best friend. Well, besides Killian…and Ruby. And her dad. Okay, so she has a lot of people who she loves, and the thought fills her with butterflies.

 

They fall asleep early that night, and when she wakes up the next morning she’s energized enough to want to go for a run. So she gets up, kisses a sleeping Killian good morning, and throws on some of her running tights and her best sports bra before leaning down to tie her shoes.

 

“Darling, are you going somewhere?”

 

Oh shit. She totally didn’t mean to wake him.

 

“For a run on the beach because apparently I hate myself and still feel the need to exercise when on vacation.”

 

“Do you want me to come with you?”

 

She shrugs because it doesn’t matter to her. “Only if you want to.”

 

“Give me five minutes.”

 

Running on the sand is a bitch no matter how good of a shape you’re in, and her legs are practically on fire as she and Killian alternate between sprinting and jogging. She needs to stop, but something is pushing her onward. Killian, though, he stops, and even if she’s dying as well, she’s not going to miss an opportunity to tease him, smirking as she tries to catch her breath while walking back to him.

 

She’s made a very dumb mistake though, because Killian gets that look in his eyes like he’s up to no good, and before she can even run away, he’s grabbing onto her waist and lifting her over his shoulder.

 

“Killian” she warns, and he just smacks her ass as he carries her to the water. She pinches his side because she doesn’t want to go in that water. “Killian, that water is going to be ice cold. I swear, don’t you dare throw me in there.”

 

She resigns herself to going into the water as he keeps walking further in, and suddenly she’s being tossed out into the hair, her body crashing into the chilled salt water and going under even as she squeals. When she comes to the surface, her teeth chattering just a bit, she already knows she has to get him back for this somehow, even with laughter bubbling in her chest.

 

“You are a dead man.”

 

“What a way it’ll be to go.”

 

“You,” she swims over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and clinging to him, “have got some balls, Killian.”  


“You of all people would know.”

 

She goes to playfully slap his chest, but he kisses her nose and she laughs instead, letting him take them back to the shore instead of swimming back on her own. She thinks he’ll put her down as they go back to the villa, but he never does. So she takes advantage of this angle and nibbles at his pulse point as their bodies are pressed together.

 

He manages to get her all the way upstairs and to the stone shower, putting her down right outside of it as he starts stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. The water falls down over him, his hair falling down on his forehead as well as the hair on his body slicking and darkening further against his toned stomach as she watches him with her bottom lip in between her teeth and her hip resting against the shower entrance.

 

Damn, he’s attractive.

 

“You like the view, sweetheart?” he teases, slicking his hair back so that it doesn’t fall in his eyes, and this isn’t helping her wanting him.

 

“I do like it,” she seductively purrs before peeling out of her soaked thru sports bra, the material getting stuck when she gets it over her shoulders, and he barks out a laugh as her attempted seductive strip tease transforms into a struggle of simply getting out of her clothes. Sports bras are miracles until you have to try to get out of one. She eventually gets it off before snapping it at him for his laughter, her hair falling in wet waves down her back when she bends to strip off her leggings, laughing and mumbling about  _stupid spandex_ until she finally steps into the shower with him, her hands running up his chest until they land on his shoulders, her body tightly pressed into his.

 

Shower sex at her parents’ place was never an option, the shower too small and too slippery. But the shower at their apartment is like this one, larger and made of stones so that it’s easier not to slip and break several very important bones. There’s even a bench, and while it’s not the most comfortable way to have sex, sometimes the two of them can’t help themselves.  

 

“That was quite the little show you put on there, darling.”

 

She rolls her eyes as he reaches around to grab her bottom, pulling her even closer to him so that his growing hardness can get some friction while her hardening nipples press into the hair of his chest. God, this is good. Best run over her life. Usually running just ends in pain, but this is pure pleasure. He backs her up to the wall so that the water is only hitting at his back, Killian’s body shielding her from the spray getting into her eyes as he dips his head down and kisses her, little moans coming out of her throat as he devours her, rolling their hips together and causing Killian to moan, too.

 

“I like this being engaged thing,” she breathes while he runs his mouth across her jaw and her hands simply hold onto his neck and card through his hair while his travel over her stomach, down her thighs, against her core, feeling the wetness that’s starting to pool there that has nothing to do with the water in the shower. She whimpers at the contact because she’s still a little sore from their second round last night. “It makes you extra sexy.”

 

“Are you saying I needed incentive to be extra sexy?” He bites at her ear lobe and pushes against her clit with the heel of his hand simultaneously, and all of the air rushes out of Emma as she gasps and leans her head against his shoulder while her body reacts to him.

 

“No, babe,” she kisses his shoulder, peppering kisses across his collarbone before running her tongue across the underside of his jaw, her hands snaking down to stoke him while he fingers at her folds and  _fuck, he’s amazing_. “You are always sexy,” she presses up on her tip toes to reach his ear, “saucy even.”

 

He chuckles at their inside joke, and at that she runs her fingers across the underside of his length before circling the tip and his laugh is dispersed into a moan, his heavy breathing only increasing as hers does the same.

 

“Turn around, darling,” he grits out, kissing her temple before she turns and Killian kisses at the back of her neck and down her spine, his hands tracing down her sides until he gets to her ass. Suddenly, he licks a stripe against her folds, and she was not expecting that. She has to try to brace herself against the wall because _oh shit_ does that feel good.

 

“Baby,” she moans when he gets into a particularly good rhythm, his forearm holding her stomach and pushing her back into him as his fingers toy with her bundle of nerves. “Babe, I can’t – I can’t hold on. I need…I need you to ah – fuck,” she whimpers, her voice cutting above the sound of the water beating down when he harshly smacks her bundle of nerves and her legs fall out underneath her as her release finally hits her. It’s rough and a bit gritty, but it’s one of those orgasms that travels all the way through her in small bursts. He works her through it while holding her up and keeping her from falling in any other way but the pleasurable one. 

 

Once her legs have gained their strength back, Killian rises from the ground, kissing his way up her back before capturing her lips with his in a bruising kiss and lining himself up to her entrance and sliding into her, her walls fluttering around his length, little aftershocks from her previous orgasm as she still tries to adjust to him being inside her again.

 

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips as he starts to move inside her, dragging himself in and out before harshly pushing back in, his arms supporting Emma under her breasts and at her waist while he rolls his hips against her backside. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too, my darling.”

 

It continues like that for awhile, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other mixed with moans and the fall of the shower water beating against them and against the floor, the heat of it waning the longer they’re in there. When she falls for a second time, Killian isn’t far behind, suppressing his moan against the skin of her shoulder while he holds both of them up, all of the sounds blurring and muting as he attempts to come back to himself.

 

Her body needs rest after all of this physical activity, and so when she asks Killian if they can simply spend the day sitting in the lounge chairs on the beach, he happily agrees. It’s so beautiful here, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to get over it. She grew up by the water, but it was never like this. This is…this is something entirely different. Maybe it’s having Killian here with her as he lounges next to her with a drink in his hand and a happy smile on his face.

 

Yeah, maybe it’s that.

 

She wakes up in the middle of the night after they’ve fallen asleep after their day of sunbathing, and instead of falling back asleep, she props herself up on her side, her head resting in her hand as the other runs over Killian’s chest hair as she thinks about how incredibly happy she is.

 

“Hey,” he whispers, shocking her out of her little daze, before running his hand down her back and pressing a kiss to her hair. “What are you doing up?”

 

“I was just thinking,” she answers honestly.

 

“Would you like to share with the class?”

 

She hums before kissing his chest over his heart, and she isn’t quite sure how to articulate what she’s thinking. That seems to still be a problem for her, but it’s a good problem to have. “It’s nothing big. Just life.”

 

“Life isn’t something big?”

 

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

 

“I’d rather you tell me.”

 

“I’m simply thinking about how lucky I am,” she sighs, her fingers still toying with his hair, “how lucky we are to have this life. And not necessarily the fancy vacations and the nice things, but to have each other. I think about all of the things that had to go wrong, and more importantly that had to go right, for you to walk in that door that night…and for you to keep coming back.”

 

“I like to think I was too stubborn to not come back. You fascinated me. Still do. Probably always will.”

 

“Killian, you know everything about me.”

 

“Aye, but we’ll change as we get older. We already have in the past few months, but in a good way, you know?”

 

“Yeah,” she exhales, leaning down to kiss his bicep, “I know. Everything about this is so crazy, but you and me, we make sense, don’t you think?”

 

“I know that we do.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a requested prompt over on Tumblr, but since it's part of the SIC Universe, it's added to this instead of "If You Ask Nicely."
> 
> The request was for their first time together from Emma's POV. That's actually not in the actual story (yet...maybe), so this is exclusive, I guess, to Emma unlike the first three chapters of the "extras."
> 
> I hope you enjoy this snippet :D

Killian’s lips move over hers, soft and yet demanding, sweet and yet harsh. In the months that she’s known him, everything about him has been contradictory. It isn’t that he is a liar or a fake. No, he’s simply surprised her. All of the preconceived notions she had about him after years of seeing flashes of his life in small snippets on her television screen or on social media are wrong. Of course, she of all people should know that just because something is said about you by others, it doesn’t mean it’s true.

 

His tongue runs against her bottom lip, and she whimpers, tiny little shivers running down the back of her throat with every swipe of his tongue until she parts her lips and allows him entrance so that their tongues can tangle together in a slick, pleasurable dance. They’ve only been together for a few weeks, she lives with her parents, and she can’t go back to his place so opportunities to make out have been few and far between. Opportunities to go a little further, well, those have been impossible, and she really wants to sleep with him.

 

A part of it is most definitely that right now she’s got Killian pressed down on the sofa in the living room, their bodies pressed together but not moving together, just their mouths. It feels so damn good, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough friction. It’s not enough connection. It’s not enough. So she’d really like to sleep with him. Another part of it is that she likes him. Really likes him. Likes him more than she’s really ever liked anyone, and she’s been in love before. How is that even possible? She likes him so damn much, and she knows that he feels the same way. It’s…the thing between them is different. She’s terrified of that, terrified of trusting someone with her heart again after Neal, but she’s dived in head first with nothing to stop her.

 

It’s possibly the greatest or worst decision of her life.

 

She doesn’t know yet, but she really hopes it’s the greatest. She’s terrified that she’s going to get her heart broken again. This break might kill her though, and she’s that deep already.

 

She’s broken out of her thoughts by Killian’s hands moving down her sides and landing right below the cheeks of her ass, most of his hands resting on her thighs but his thumbs resting on her ass almost likes he’s scared to fully touch her. Is he scared to fully touch her?

 

She breaks the kiss, and she smiles when Killian’s lips chase after her.

 

“What are you doing, love?”

 

His accent is hot. He’s hot. In the back of her mind she thinks that she should probably be more eloquent about describing him since there are so many wonderful things about him outside of his appearance, but right now she’s turned on and all she can think of is that he’s hot. And a damn good kisser. So good that she forgets what she’s thinking half of the time. But not now.

 

“I was just thinking,” she begins, crawling off of him and standing on slightly shaky legs before motioning to him to sit up on the couch. He does, his brows furrowed as he studies her, but suddenly more understanding when she spreads her knees to land on either side of his hips and sitting down there, feeling the beginnings of his rising erection while excitement rises up in her. “I was just thinking that my parents aren’t going to be coming up here for several more hours.”

 

He chuckles a bit, reaching up to scratch behind is ear, and he’s nervous. The great, confident Killian is nervous to be with her. At least, that’s what she thinks is happening. It’s touching and sweet and makes her heart swell in the same way that her frustration has been over not being able to go further with him for lack of privacy. If she could afford her own place, she’d probably get it.

 

“You sure about that, lass?”

 

“So,” she rolls her hips against his, causing Killian to groan and rest his head back on the couch only for her to chase after his lips, kissing him and threading her hands through his hair to hold him closer while his hands find purchase on her hips, “so sure. And if you,” she lifts her t-shirt over her head, and she can’t believe she’s actually doing this as she pushes her nerves down and drowns them out with want, “would like to partake in some more enjoyable activities with me, I’d be okay with that.”

 

His stupid blue eyes are practically blown black as he stares at her chest covered by a particularly ugly bra (she really should have planned ahead) that she’s pretty sure is stained with food, and it shoots desire straight through her core. She likes him, and she wants to be with him in every single way. And the way that his hips buck up into hers, the way that he looks at her, the way that he speaks to her, and the way that he’s looking at her make her think that he wants to be with her, too.

 

“I’d be amenable to that, love,” he smiles, leaning forward to press a fierce kiss against her mouth that has her all but melting into him as their tongues tangle together and their hips grind against each other, the friction building higher and higher and oh shit this is good. They’re dry humping, and it’s so good. He makes her feel like a teenager again, back in the years before Neal, and this only makes those feelings of pure adolescence grow…even if nothing they’re about to do is pure.

 

“Bedroom,” she whispers against his lips, biting down on her own as she stares down at him, her hair beginning to fall around their faces.

 

“Bedroom,” he agrees, moving his hands down her body and holding her ass like he’s going to pick her up. Oh shit, is he going to pick her up? That would be so damn hot.

 

“Are you going to pick me up?”

 

He raises an eyebrow, and there’s amusement dancing across his irises, the blackness of desire fading a bit to show a little more blue. “I was going to try, but you’re kind of taking away my momentum, Nolan.”

 

He’s smiling at her, and he has such a beautiful smile when he’s happy. She loves his soft, closed-lip ones, but the ones where his teeth show and his cheeks rise while his eyes squint, those are her favorite.

 

“Well,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around his neck and scooting forward on his lap, “go ahead. Just, don’t drop me. I don’t want to bust my ass.”

 

“What a fine ass it would be to bust.”

 

He’s waggling his eyebrows, and she laughs at his face and at his words, resting her head against his shoulder while he lifts them both off the couch, her legs wrapping around his waist as he fake complains about how heavy she is, grunting and groaning and causing her giggles to increase while he carries her down the hallway to her bedroom, slamming her door shut behind him with a flourish that only matches the flourish of him dropping her down on the bed, her body bouncing on the mattress as Killian stands at the foot of the bed unbuttoning his shirt until she finally sees the hair and the abs she’s been feeling for weeks now.

 

“You’re staring, darling.”

 

“I like the view.”

 

“Do you?” He inches closer and closer to her, all of his usual suave back, replacing the nerves with his confidence as he leans over her, his breath coming out hot against her lips and her nerves sparking with fire.

 

“I do. You’re being awfully meticulous in this getting to the enjoyable activities thing.”

 

He places a quick kiss against her lips, and before she can further it, he pulls back and cups her face. “Emma,” he whispers, her name suddenly sounding almost holy on his lips, “I want to take my time with you. I know that it’s neither of our first times, but it’s our first time with each other. And I know that it’ll likely be a bit awkward, but you’re special to me.”

 

“How can you possibly be so romantic when I can see your erection through your jeans?”

 

“Again, because you’re special to me. I like you. I know that sounds childish, but I like you, Emma Nolan.”

 

“I like you, too, Killian.”

 

He kisses her again then, and she feels it all the way down to her toes, the digits curling in while Killian moves down her body, kissing at the tops of her breasts still clothed by the cups of her bra. God, why did she wear this bra? Does she even own anything sexy? Probably not. It’s been awhile since she wanted to do this. She really wants to do this.

 

“Can I,” he begins, his hands moving to her back, and she’s already nodding her head yes to the question he hasn’t even asked yet.

 

Smiling, he guides his hand to fumble around with her clasp, mumbling _bloody hell_ when he can’t quite get it until he finally breaks it free and she helps him take it all the way off of her, sliding the straps down her shoulders. She’s basically naked before him, her breasts completely bared to his gaze and his touch, and she’s only the slightest bit nervous, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Emma. So gorgeous. I can’t – I cannot believe I get to be with you.”

 

Her breath hitches, and she doesn’t know if it’s ever going to come back, completely blown away by the fact that he actually means the words he’s saying. She doesn’t get a chance to say anything back because he’s kissing down her chest again, moving closer and closer to her already straining nipples until he looks up at her for confirmation, and when she gives it with a subtle nod of her head, he smiles before taking the bud into his mouth, suckling on it and nibbling until she’s practically goo beneath him while his fingers twist her neglected peak.

 

“So beautiful,” he mumbles again, and she can do nothing but reach to run her hand through his hair, making him look up at her with earnest eyes. Words are on the tip of her tongue, but she’s not ready. She doesn’t feel them quite yet, but she feels something eerily similar.

 

“I adore you, Killian,” she whispers, pulling him up to kiss her one more time.

 

Things move a bit more quickly from there, the rest of their clothes removed until they’re bare before each other. She’s nervous, but she’s ready, kissing down his body and exploring him the way that he explored the curves and lines of her earlier. He’s beautiful, too, and she tells him so, making him smile at her before flipping them over, a little awkwardly to be honest, so that he’s covering her. She can feel his length against her thigh, straining and pulsing the slightest bit, and she thinks her stomach might burst from how tightly she’s wound.

 

“You have a condom, right?”

 

“In my top drawer.”

 

After he slides the condom on, he nestles himself in between her thighs, teasing her, and yeah, she’s definitely going to burst if this doesn’t happen soon.

 

“You sure?” he questions, his voice shaking the slightest bit. It’s never been like this before. A guy has never cared so much or been so concerned with how she’s feeling, and it makes her know even more that Killian is different. He’s not like everyone else.

 

“I’m sure,” she confirms, and he slowly slides into her, filling her up so much that her heart pounds in her chest and her remaining breath absolutely leaves her.

 

“You okay?”

 

Cupping his face, she brings Killian down to her lips and kisses him as he stays completely still inside of her. “Killian, I’m fine. I know that you’re nervous. I am, too, but if I’m not fine, I’ll tell you, yeah? Right now I’m wonderful, but I’d love for you to start moving.”

 

He laughs against her lips before mumbling okay as his hips start to move and his chest brushes over hers, weighing her down with his body weight as he starts to move against her and inside of her. It’s good, really good, and while not the best sex she’s ever had in terms of pleasure, it’s the best in all of the other reasons. After giving him some instruction, though, telling him to move to the left or thrust a little harder, it becomes fantastic, the two of them moving together in awkward, wonderful harmony as the pressure in her stomach builds and the coil begins to unwind the more that he moves above her, his lips never straying far from hers.

 

When she comes, it’s not with an explosion, but it’s amazing nonetheless, little bursts of pleasure spurting through her, and she doesn’t remember the last time she was this happy. It’s…surprising, but also not. Kind of like Killian.

 

Afterwards, after they’ve cleaned themselves up and gotten dressed (she does live with her parents after all), she lays with her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his waist while his hands run down her back.

 

“You know,” he speaks, his voice quieter than usual, “I’ve never had sex with a girl while her parents were downstairs. It makes me feel adventurous. A little rebellious.”

 

She laughs before slapping his side. “Shut up.”

 

“What?” he chuckles. “I never got to do this as a teenager, the whole having to worry about what parents think or where they are thing. Are you going to sneak me out your bedroom window?”

 

“I’m going to make you crawl down the fire escape outside of my parents’ room.”

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

“I would.”

 

He kisses her hairline, and she smiles. “I think I’d do that if I got to keep coming back here.”

 

She smiles against his shoulder before leaning back and scooting up to press her lips against his. “I’ll let you use the front door if you keep coming back. I promise.”

 

He doesn’t leave until the next morning, and her parents pretend not to see him walking out the front door with a flushed face and a slight bruise on his neck.


	5. Extra Scene: November 2026

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An extra scene that happens in November 2026. Andy is five, Sutton is about to turn three, and Emma is pregnant with Linnie. They've been married for seven and a half years and together for thirteen and a half, just for reference ❤️

“Mummy,” Andy prods, pulling at her shirt as they walk through the park, “why are there those people again?”

 

She stops pushing Sutton’s stroller and looks to where Andy is pointing. There’s a group of photographers just outside the perimeter of the park, and as much as she knew they were going to be there, she was kind of hoping to avoid them today. She’s kind of hoping to avoid them every day, but she knows that isn’t really possible. Mostly, though, she’s not interested in having to explain to her five-year-old why people are always trying to take pictures of them when they’re out in public. She and Killian had just gotten all of the craziness at Andy’s school to stop when her bump finally started to show and all of the craziness began again.

 

More people are interested in her reproductive system than she ever thought possible, and honestly, it’s so much worse now than when Andy was born, which is not something she ever thought was possible. But she’s also more used to it, understands it more, and isn’t quite so terrified of everything. It doesn’t mean she’s not terrified at all, but she’s prepared for the fact that people are going to ask her a million invasive questions and try to get pictures with her stomach protruding. Really, it’s a little weird, but she understands that her face (and her stomach) makes money.

 

That doesn’t mean she likes it.

 

And it really doesn’t mean that she gives everyone easy access to it. She spends more time in the privacy of their home in Bucklebury than anywhere else, but when they’d been visiting her parents today, Andy and Sutton had decided they wanted to go stroll in the park. And by stroll, she means that Sutton is asleep in her stroller while Andy alternates between running around like a madman and complaining about why he can’t be pushed around. It’s normal for her and for them, but she’s kind of fatigued today and wishes that Killian were here instead of working.

 

“They want pictures of us,” she answers simply. They still haven’t told Andy why exactly, wanting to keep him as normal as possible for as long as possible, but she knows that they have to tell him sometime in the near future. She just doesn’t know how.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you’re the most adorable little boy in the entire world.”

 

“I guess that’s true.”

 

She laughs at that and reaches down to ruffle his hair. He needs a haircut, but she’ll get that done once they’re on Christmas holidays. He also probably needs to be wearing a hat today, but it’s kind of unseasonably warm for it to be late November.

 

“It’s definitely true, and Sutton is the most adorable little girl in the entire world.”

 

“But what about the baby in your tummy?”

 

She clicks her tongue, buying time for her to think of an answer as they walk across a bridge, the water babbling beneath them and Thomas following behind them. “Then it’ll be a tie whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

 

It’s a girl, but she and Killian aren’t telling the kids that.

 

Killian is so dang excited even if she is constantly complaining to him about how much her heartburn is bothering her or that she has to pee a lot.

 

Like, a lot.

 

This is a not so fun time…even if she is so damn excited for her daughter to be here.

 

And maybe she’s a little extra annoyed because everyone has called this a geriatric pregnancy, and she is so not on board with that term.

 

“Can I go swimming?”

 

“It’s cold, Andy,” Sutton mutters, obviously waking up from her sleep. How she can be sassy even in her sleepy states Emma will never understand. It’s like she’s all of her personality and Killian’s personality combined in a little body and multiplied. “Swimming is for summer.”

 

“Not if the pool is inside.”

 

“We’re outside.”

 

“Guys,” she sighs, pushing the stroller with one hand while reaching out to intertwine her fingers with Andy, letting him hold onto her, “be nice to each other. Do you guys want to keep walking or do you want to go home so we can get something to eat and see Daddy?”

 

“Can we get something to eat and not see Daddy? He saw me steal a biscuit last night.”

 

“Andy,” she laughs, tugging him closer to keep his face out of the view of the photographers and because she wants to, “you know you’re not supposed to do that.”

  
  
“But they’re yummy.”

 

“How’d you even get to them, kid? They’re up high.”

 

“I got a chair to get on the counter so I could get them.”

 

“You evil little mastermind. What if you had fallen and gotten hurt?”

 

“I still would have had a biscuit.”

 

Priorities.

 

She slowly makes her way back to her parents’ house and loads all of the kids into the car so that she can drive the thirty minutes home. The walk really wore her out, and she could use several cups of coffee that she can’t have right now. It’s worth it, she reminds herself. It is.

 

Killian is in the yard raking leaves when she pulls up, and she knows before she even unbuckles the kids from their car seats that they’re going to run into that pile of leaves. And they do, Andy getting their first and jumping into them before Sutton’s small body follows him. She can’t imagine that falling on the hard ground is comfortable, but they bounce back from a lot of things that would hurt an adult. It terrifies her, but they’re fearless.

 

Last week Andy tried sliding down the banister to the staircase, and she’s so glad she stopped him beforehand.

 

“Emma, love,” Killian calls, looking over at her as she walks his way, “I seem to have lost the kids. There were here, and then they disappeared.”

 

“How did that happen?” she laughs, playing along with him as she steps into his side and meets his lips for a brief kiss. “Do you think they went inside?”

 

“Maybe. I’m simply not sure. I think it’ll be okay if we lose them for a little while, right? We can go eat all of that cake inside by ourselves.”

 

She gently slaps Killian’s chest, looking up at the cheeky smile on his face before she glances down to look at Andy squirming in the leaves, the thought of cake obviously on his mind all the while Sutton stays still, likely plotting some kind of revenge or something else insane that a three-year old should not be able to do.

 

“Don’t we have some chocolate cake, babe? I could go for some chocolate cake.”

 

“I could too, but I think I’m going to have to pack up all of these leaves first. I’m thinking about throwing them in the lake.”

 

“Daddy, no,” Sutton shrieks, scrambling up from the ground and running to his legs, hugging onto his calf, “it’s too cold to go into the lake.”

 

“What about the cake?” Andy asks, popping his head up, leaves stuck in his black hair, and staying sitting up on the ground.

 

“Oh Buttons, love,” Killian sighs, reaching down and scooping her up and holding her to his chest while her arms wrap around his neck and he rubs his hand up and down her back, “I’m not going to throw you into the lake now that I’ve found you.”

 

“Andy wanted to swim at the park.”

 

“But it’s too cold for that.”

 

“I told him swimming is for summer.”

 

She laughs at that, especially when Killian raises a brow at her, and she can simply shrug. This is all very much like their conversations in the park, and she wonders if Killian knows just what he’s stumbled into.

 

“Swimming is for summer,” he agrees, kissing Sutton’s forehead. “Andrew, get out of that leaf pile, and we’ll talk about this cake.”

 

“Yes sir,” he mumbles, quickly getting up and rushing inside, leaving a little trail of leaves behind him.

 

Andy does eventually get his cake, even though they need to cut back on his sweets a little for the rest of the week, and after running through their evening routines of making sure that everyone is bathed and their clothes are set out for the next day, they do get Andy and Sutton to bed. Sutton is always easier, mostly because of her age, but Andy exhausted himself so much today that he was out like a light.

 

She enjoys those nights.

 

When she closes Andy’s door behind her, Killian is resting against the hallway wall, his arms crossed over him and his legs crossed at the ankle, an expectant smirk on his face.

 

“What?” she whispers, stepping over to him.

 

“Nothing. I’m just damn excited to kiss you right now.”

 

“Oh my God,” she laughs, stepping into him and wrapping her arms around his neck while pressing up on her toes so that she can reach his mouth, their lips slowly gliding over each other. He tastes like the chocolate of the cake they just ate, and she’s really kind of craving some more. She’s definitely craving some more. But right now she’s going to let Killian’s kiss cause gooseflesh to break out over her skin while his teeth gently nip at her bottom lip before he soothes it with his tongue.

 

Damn he’s a good kisser.

 

“I missed you today,” she whispers when she pulls back, and Killian simply nods his head in response while his hands stay steady at her hips, thumbs rubbing circles into her skin over her sweater. “Mom and Dad did too.”

 

“I’ll call them tomorrow, yeah?” he asks, dipping his head to kiss her nose, making her eyes flutter closed for a moment. “And I missed you all too. Did you have a nice time?”

 

“It was good. We went for a walk in the park afterwards, which was nice. There were some photographs, though.”

 

“I know.”

 

“How?”

 

“Isabelle told me,” he answers before moving his hands and nudging her to turn so that they walk down the hallway to their bedroom. “She showed me a few of them. They’re mostly of you, but they got some of Andy’s face.”

 

“He asked why they were there again.” She sits down on the bed and unbuttons her pants, which may very well be the sweetest relief. She’s about three weeks of this pregnancy away from completely switching to dresses and leggings even though it’s about to be winter.

 

She’ll freeze. It’s fine.

 

“Yeah?” Killian asks, bending down to kiss over her belly, whispering a few words to their daughter, before sitting down next to her. “What’d you say?”

 

“I said it was because he’s cute, but I don’t think that excuse is going to work for too much longer. Maybe a few years. I’m just kind of scared that one of the kids at school, or maybe even Alex or Lizzie, are going to spill the beans before we can explain it the way that we should.”

  
  
“Aye, but…let’s not quite yet. Let’s give him more time. I don’t think it’ll change anything, not for who we are, but I want him to be a bit older so that he can better understand who his family is. He doesn’t need to know he’s a part of history just yet. Neither does Sutton. She’ll likely try to overthrow my father or parliament or something.”

 

“She really will,” Emma laughs, twisting her head to the side. “So you don’t think we should tell him?”

  
  
“Not yet.” Killian reaches over to grab her hand, bringing her knuckles up to his lips and kissing over her wedding ring. “But if you want to go talk to Liam and Abigail about it, I’m sure we could pawn all of the kids off on my mother so that the four of us could talk.”

 

“I like that plan. Will you go get me some more cake to eat?”

 

He nods his head and smiles, his eyes crinkling in that way that she loves, in the way that always makes her heart flutter. “Of course, but you have to be the one to explain to Andy why it’s all gone when he wakes up in the morning.”

  
  
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”


	6. Extra Scene: August 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scene request: Welllll since you're taking Second in Command prompts...how about a morning with them hanging out in bed??? I don't care when in the storyline. They were always so soft with each other, and I miss that

“You have big hands.”

 

“What now?” he chuckles, flexing his fingers as he looks over at his wife whose eyes are fully focused on tracing her nails over his fingers as they lay under the covers in the dim light of their bedroom, only a little bit of the sun rising outside shining through the curtains.

 

“Your hands,” she mumbles, dropping his right palm and completely holding onto his left hand so that her fingers are focused on his wedding ring and the slightly rough callouses that he’s somehow gotten despite not spending a lot of his time working outside. It’s where he spends his free time, but it’s not as if he’s done manual labor his entire life. But still, he knows that he doesn’t have perfectly smooth and soft skin, not like Emma. He can feel hers now as her right leg is tucked between his thighs and as her fingers press into his skin. “Like, they’re not monstrously big, but compared to mine, they are.”

 

“Well, love, I am larger than you. Just in general and all.”

 

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, her eyes playfully shining as she leans forward and bites at his nose and then his upper lip, the sensation making its way down his spine while his eyes never leave hers.

 

He wonders if he’ll ever not be this in love with her. He sure as hell hopes not because this…he wants to spend all of his days laughing with Emma before either of them have managed to get out of bed. He knows that won’t happen, that it already doesn’t happen. They have too many early mornings where Emma is agitated without her coffee or he’s annoyed by how cold it is in the house. But for all of the years where he could only see her in the privacy of the pub in the middle of the night, he dreamed of being able to argue with her over the temperature of their room or what bedspread they wanted to cover the mattress.

 

Now he gets that. He gets to love her every day, and he doesn’t think that magic is ever going to go away, even if it presents itself in different ways. Maybe he’s simply a newlywed who is happy in his life and in his relationship and he’s enjoying it.

 

He truly does hope that he’s always this in love with Emma. She deserves it. Maybe he deserves it too.

 

“Tell me more about your fascination with my hands,” he whispers, lowering his voice and purposely darkening it as his brows lower and his lips tick up on the right. “I would think that you know all about them for all of the times that you have held them, for all of the times that I’ve made you scream out my name with them alone.”

 

Her nose scrunches up in that way that he’s partial to, the way that also makes her eyes crinkle. “I am not inflating your ego like that.”

 

“Oh come on now, darling,” he mumbles, leaning closer so that is lips brush over hers once, twice, three times, a fleeting touch that is so much and yet not enough. “You’re not one to shy away from a little dirty talk when you’re in the mood, and you were already working your way there.”

 

“I wasn’t being dirty, you jackass,” she murmurs right back, parting her mouth before she gently glides her lips over his, her mouth sucking on his bottom lip so that a sigh escapes from the back of his throat, his body inching close to her so that they’re almost completely pressed together. It’s lazy, slow, and he knows he could get lost in this, lost in Emma as a slow ache of pleasure spreads over his entire body. “I was simply talking about how much I love your hands.”

 

“Hmm,” he hums, taking her hands in his and stretching them out up over their heads as he twines their fingers together and holds them there. “Usually when a woman is talking about a part of my anatomy, she’s being the slightest bit naughty.”

 

“Yeah, you better only be talking about me there, bud.”

 

“Always,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her again, reveling in the little gasp that comes from her throat while he continues to press himself down on top of her, gently rolling his hips into hers under the sea of white blankets. “You are the only woman allowed to talk about my anatomy. Well, Lizzie can too, but that’s only because she says my arms are stronger than her daddy’s when it comes to lifting her in the air.”

 

“Your arms are better than Liam’s.”

 

“You like my hands and my arms. Damn, do you like my shoulders too? What about my knees? My elbow? My right hip?”

 

“Everything but knees.”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“They’re currently crushing my calf.”

 

He leans down to quickly press his lips against hers before rolling onto his back and tugging Emma with him, letting her settle her knees on either side of his hips as she lets go of his hands so that she can trail her fingers up his chest. Her eyes are focused on her ministrations as she twists his hair and then lets it go, repeating the motion over and over again as that familiar pleasurable sensation keeps making its way over his body.

 

“I love every part of you, Killian,” she says calmly, her eyes still not looking at him as they seem rather focused on his chest. She has always been rather fond of his chest. He enjoys that, enjoys her fascination with it. “You told me that once, that you’re a fan of every part of me. It was, like, one of those swoon worthy things that only you can get away with saying with that damn accent of yours, and I’ve never forgotten it.”

 

“It was true,” he admits, parting his lips as he smiles. He moves his hands from the mattress and grabs onto her wrists, pulling her away from messing with his chest hair so that he can hold onto her and be connected to her. “I’m a fan of every part of you, my love. Including your incredibly dainty little hands.”

 

“You’re being an asshole again.”

 

“I find that it’s a permanent state of being for me.”

  
  
“It only took you twenty nine years to figure that out.”

 

“Eh, it took me about twenty five, but I decided not to say anything to you. Didn’t want you to break up with me.”

 

“I could still break up with you.”

 

“You wouldn’t because there’d be a hell of a lot of paperwork.”

 

“I do hate paperwork.”

 

“Exactly,” he chuckles, bringing her down a little bit closer to him. She looks so happy this morning with her cheeks slightly flushed against the tan of her skin. Her hair is all over the place, half of it falling out of its bun, and he knows that at some point today, hopefully soon, he plans on threading his hands through it all and tangling it a bit more. “And for that reason alone, you cannot divorce me.”

 

“That sounds like a solid reason. Though, should we really be joking about divorce two months into marriage?”

 

“What else are we going to joke about? Actual funny things?”

 

“You’re right. That sounds ridiculous.”

 

“C’mere, love,” he softly demands, tugging her down to completely land on top of him, her breasts pressed into his chest as her chin rests just below his.

 

“You beckoned me?” she giggles, the sound so airy and light and for what has to be the one millionth time, he wonders how he got so lucky to wander into her pub. He wonders how he got so lucky for her to give him the time of day and for her to fall in love with him in the same way that he fell in love with her.

 

“You are my favorite person,” he promises before gently biting her nose, mimicking her motions from earlier, “and I love you despite your weird obsession with my hands.”

 

“They’re very nice, very big hands.”

 

“All the better to hold you with, my dear.”

 

“Oh my God,” Emma sputters out, inching up his body before she presses her lips against his jaw and then his ear, settling herself at the spot that always seems to drive him mad with _want._ “You are a weird man, but I do love you. You know what would make me love you even more, though?”

 

“What?” he asks, releasing her grasp so that he can rub his hand up and down her back.

 

“If you’d make me some breakfast and then bring it to me.”

 

“You don’t want to come downstairs and help out with that?”

 

“Why do that when you have such capable hands?”


	7. Extra Scene: January 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I know both were glossed over in the original story of Second in Command but I would love to see Killian and Emma confront their romantic pasts and be comforted by the other one. Like how the Albert confrontation was so satisfying
> 
> I love this prompt, but I did mostly focus on Killian here because his stuff did get glossed over more. Emma's is pretty fleshed out in the story because it's a bigger part of the beginning of the story! 💕

“Do you want something to drink?” Emma asks him as he settles down at his seat near the counter. 

 

He weighs his answers in his mind, the want to drown himself in alcohol and the want to not do that any longer competing for dominance, before he speaks in an attempt to make sure that his voice stays even, that he doesn’t give anything away. He’ll tell her eventually. He will. It’s just that she seemed so happy when he walked into the pub tonight. She was humming along to the radio and filling orders with Will, the two of them laughing at each other as they usually do. She’s happy, and he doesn’t like taking that away from her. 

 

But they’re...together. They’re dating. They have been for almost eight months now, and as much as he knows her and they know each other, there’s still so much they don’t know about each other, still many gaps to be filled. There’s so much to be said, and he wants to say it all. 

 

He’s simply not sure if he wants to say it all tonight. 

 

He apparently has several thoughts competing for dominance tonight. 

 

It’ll likely be called as a draw. 

 

“You wanna give me an entire bottle of rum?” he finally answers, the words escaping his lips before he can stop them, as his fingers tap against the bar top. “I don’t care what kind.”

 

Both of her brows raise, the two of them practically reaching her hairline, and he knows he’s not going to get away with playing that as a joke before her lips change from being pressed together in a line to an opened sigh. He should have never said anything, probably shouldn’t have come here tonight when he’s all up inside his own head, but Emma calms him. She  calms him. He loves her and talks to her about nearly all of his issues, but this wasn’t really one he wanted to bring up tonight. 

 

All he wanted was to be with her tonight, to get to talk, laugh, sleep in the same bed. All he wanted, all he always wants, is her. They’re so young in the grand scheme of things, really. They have so much time ahead of them, but all he can really focus on right now is his past. 

 

Shit. 

 

He’s going to do it. He will. He’ll talk to her. Emma laid so many of her wounds out for him before they officially got together, her bravery far exceeding his when he knows that she still struggles in coping with what Neal did to her, and yet sometimes he still worries of sharing his wounds with her. At least, sharing all of them. She’s been through a lot when it comes to her relationships. Neal really did a number on her by being the biggest asshole in the world (competing hand and hand with his brother, he thinks), and yet she’s allowed Killian in her life despite all of his baggage. 

 

And he’s going to add on more, to make their combined weight so much heavier than it already is even if he knows that everyone has baggage. Only small children don’t, but they will. Everyone has pasts and issues caused by their pasts. Everyone has things that weigh them down, that cause their shoulders to slump a bit, that makes their backs ache. It’s part of life, but it doesn’t make it any easier for him to share even more of his with the woman he loves. 

 

With the woman who loves him despite everything she’s been through and despite all of the heavy implications that come from her being with him and staying with him, hopefully forever. Despite all of the issues that he has because of his relationship with his family. 

 

Because he also might be in the running for being the biggest asshole in the world.

 

Neal. Liam. Killian. 

 

Just like that. 

 

“I saw Milah today,” he starts, not letting Emma say anything or else he’ll stop and not let the words tumble past his lips. He has to let it out. He has to share. He has to...he can’t keep hiding parts of him that he wants Emma to know about even if they’re not pleasant. Seeing the best in each other in spite of knowing the worst and all. “Not in person or anything, but I saw her on the cover of one of those ridiculous magazines when I was going for a run earlier. It was on a newsstand. She’s dating someone else, and it’s splashed across every page because she was my last girlfriend, you know? So all of the headlines are about ‘The Prince’s Ex Finds Love Again. Why hasn’t he?’ Which is so fucking idiotic because I have with you. I love you, but no one knows that. I don’t want them to know that. Not because I’m ashamed of you but because I - “

 

“Killian,” Emma whispers, her voice barely reaching over the sound of the music loudly humming through the speakers, as he notices her hand on top of his, delicate fingers holding onto the back of his palm. He doesn’t know when in his rambles she put it there, but he shifts his wrist and twines their fingers together, allowing them this connection, before he brings her knuckles to his lips and lingers there. 

 

“Killian,” she says again, and he finally looks up at her and the way that she’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, a nervous tick if he’s ever seen one on her. He’s a bloody asshole for making her feel nervous. “We made that decision together, yeah? I’m fine with it and don’t need, don’t  _ want _ , magazines and tabloids to know about us. You know I don’t love when you’re rumored to be dating someone else, but I know it’s not true. You love me, and you tell me that. I don’t need something else.”

 

He takes a moment to swallow her words, to allow them to settle. It’s a lot to take in even if he knows all of that. He’s still spiraling a bit, but it’s all fine. It has to be. 

 

“Ems,” Will calls, shocking him out of his thoughts and bringing his attention back to how tightly he’s holding Emma’s hand. His knuckles must be white by now. She twists her head around to look at Will as he shuffles his feet behind her. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m going to take my break and eat a late supper, okay? Table five probably needs a refresher sometime soon.”

 

“Got it. I can handle things.”

 

“Thanks.” He nods his head. “You’re gonna crush her hand there, lover boy.”

 

“Fuck off Scarlett.”

 

“Oi, he’s feisty tonight.” 

 

“You can have a thirty minute break if you don’t piss Killian off anymore.”

 

“Not sure if it’s worth it.”

 

He chuckles under his breath despite himself. He likes Will. He really does. And he trusts him not to share their relationship with the world. Sometimes, though, there are days where he would give anything to be able to punch Will as hard as he can. This is one of those days even if he knows that Will is simply messing with him. 

 

Maybe because Will is messing with him. 

 

“Will.”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he sighs, raising his hands in the air before he leans forward and obnoxiously kisses Emma’s cheek, the smacking sound following him as he walks into the kitchen. 

 

Killian’s blood boils beneath his skin, and it takes several deep breaths for his skin to not feel like it’s sweltering. He’s annoyed, but it’ll pass. It has to pass. 

 

“You cannot murder him,” Emma teases, the tenseness in her face having faded to a small smile that’s still a little tight. That’s because of him, and he hates it. “We don’t have enough help around here, and he really likes his job.” When he doesn’t say anything back, she squeezes his hand until her thumb begins rubbing back and forth over his knuckles, the movement further cooling him off and calming him down as his grip loosens. “You want to keep telling me what’s going on? Why these headlines have you all upset?”

 

He clicks his tongue before pressing his lips together. He was going to tell her all of it, but now he’s lost all of his momentum. 

 

He’s definitely indecisive tonight. 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Okay, well, when you feel like talking about it, you know I’m here. I’m going to go check on everyone. Why don’t you go sit in the corner booth? There are a lot of people in here tonight, and it’s more secluded over there.”

 

He nods his head before standing, releasing her hand and walking away. He knows that she’s right. He should have gone to the corner to begin with. Hell, he should have gone upstairs and lounged in front of the television with David and Mary Margaret, but he seems to always be seeking out Emma. 

 

The pub continues to get busier as the night goes on, so he makes sure to pull his cap down and turn his body away from everyone. He notices Emma dim the lights little by little until it’s a hazy gray, only the slightest bit of yellow glow shining over everyone, and he bides his time by messing with his phone. He’s got plenty of messages and emails to catch up on, and it distracts him from everything to the point where he doesn’t even notice Emma placing a glass of water on the table and then sliding in across from him so that her toes tap against his under the table. 

 

“Alright, sailor,” she sighs, her lips ticking up because of the totally inaccurate endearment slipping off of her tongue, “you have been over here brooding for hours now. It’s time to talk to me.”

 

He looks around and realizes that the place his empty, that there’s no one left. Not even Will. When the hell did it get so late that they’ve closed down? He knows he’s mostly been zoned out, but he should have at least noticed the fact that most of the tables have been wiped down with the chairs stacked on top of them. And he definitely should have noticed that the music has stopped and that Will’s voice no longer remained a constant hum in his ears. 

 

“What time is it?” he stupidly asks as he takes a sip of the water. It doesn’t slip past him that it’s not the rum he asked for hours ago. At least he’s still kind of thinking clearly. 

 

“About fifteen minutes until three, so it’s time for us to go to bed... _ after _  you talk to me:”

 

“I thought you said only to talk to you when I’m ready?”

 

She raises her right brow. “Are you?”

 

He takes another sip of his water before putting down his glass, fingers wiping at the condensation. “I’ve been under a thumb for my entire life,” he starts, glancing up at Emma and seeing the understanding in her eyes. She’s always so understanding even when she shouldn’t be, even when she should be pissed at him. “Every move I’ve made since the actual day I was born has been under a microscope, and the first time I ever had any freedom was when I went to university and was away from my family. So I drank more and went to pubs with my mates. I flirted incessantly with women, and oftentimes I took them home with me so that they could warm my bed.”

 

He sees Emma flinch at that. She tried to hide it, but she couldn’t really. It’s not like either of them think the other is some untouched virgin, but he doesn’t exactly like to think about Neal or one of her one night stands warming her bed either. But it’s real and raw and it all comes back to that baggage thing. They have it, even if sleeping with a practical stranger isn’t some shameful thing. 

 

“And that’s when the stories started,” he continues, his gaze flickering away from Emma to look at the ceiling for a moment. “The first one was true. Her name was Kaitlin, and I did sleep with her. She sold the story to The Sun, and I never saw her again. The next ten stories? Not at all true, but that didn’t matter. Once that first one started, any of them could be plausible. And I was young and idiotic, so I kept going to pubs and sleeping with women because not all of them sold the stories, you know? Some of them didn’t know who I was. Some of them didn’t care. And some of them probably only cared that one day they’d get to say that they slept or flirted with a prince.”

 

God, he hates his title. 

 

He looks at Emma again and smiles, his lips ticking up on the right side. Her face is completely neutral, lips pressed together in a thin line and eyes barely rounded. He doesn’t know how she feels about any of that, and he’s a little scared to find out. She knows some of this. It’s not as if they’ve never talked about his past outside of his emotional history with his family. But he never did tell her about Kaitlin or the others. He only told her a little about Milah when it seemed right. 

 

Sometimes the hard conversations don’t come up naturally, and they don’t happen until it’s far too late. 

 

“Love?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

She shrugs her shoulders, her face still impassive. “I was thinking about how much I hate all of those women for what they did to you, for how they took advantage of you.”

 

“You don’t have to hate them.”

 

“I do though. I mean...I guess,” she stutters, taking a sip of her own water. “I don’t  _ hate _  them. I don’t like them, but I don’t hate them. You’re this great, wonderfully kind guy who anyone would be lucky to know. I love you, and I don’t like that there are people who have taken advantage of your heart like that. It’s fucked up.”

 

“Aye,” he laughs, the chuckle dark. “It is, but it’s been my life, you know? I’ve been taken advantage of by people I’m close to, friends and family. Probably especially my family.I think that’s one of the reasons I love our relationship. It’s not...Emma I have trusted you from the day I walked in this place soaking wet and you didn’t make a big deal about who I am. You simply told me to get my ass out of the seat and gave me a change of clothes. You don’t care who I am, and you’re the first woman who has ever reacted to me like that.”

 

“You’re Killian, my obnoxious asshole of a boyfriend who ate all of my pop tarts last week.”

 

He actually chuckles at that, the laughter rumbling through his stomach as he reaches his hand out on the table and silently asks for hers so he can thread their fingers together like he did earlier. 

 

It makes him feel better, safer than he has felt all day. 

 

“I’ll get you a new box tomorrow...or today I guess.”

 

“Thank you.” She squeezes his hand, and his heart squeezes like the dramatic fool that he is. “So tell me about Milah. That’s where I assume this is going because of the magazines.”

 

“Very perceptive, you are.”

 

“Okay Yoda.”

 

“Not referencing something, but I like that you think I am.”

 

“Always.”

 

He smiles at her again, smiles at how she can be so light sometimes when other times she can’t talk to him because of a heaviness in her heart. “Milah was the first truly serious woman I dated. We met in an art history class, and she did this perfect impression of the professor. She was my first love, and I would have done anything for her. I nearly did do anything for her. She was...she was amazing. She was witty and wild and always ready to go on some kind of adventure with me. We’d been together for a year, and I thought we’d be together for many more.”

 

“And then she started selling stories about you too,” Emma finishes for him as her thumb never stops caressing his knuckles and making his heart hitch, several beats skipping at a time when all he was focusing on was his heartbreak.”

 

“She did. She was a journalist, had been the entire time, and the bloody paper hired her to seduce me so that she could give any and all inside information on me or on my family. How crazy is that? I’m a freaking figurehead who does some charity work, and there are people being hired to fall in love with me for a story like that movie you made me watch the other day.”

 

“How To Lose A Guy in Ten Days.”

 

“That’s the one.” 

 

He runs his free hand through his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough to pull, and he can barely keep his skin from overheating again. He’s covered in goose flesh, all of his hair standing on its ends. 

 

“What she did was wrong,” Emma sighs, her words matter of fact. 

 

“But I still loved her,” he quietly admits, almost ashamed of the words. “Really, really loved her. And it’s so difficult to understand that. She says that she loved me too, that she actually fell for me when she got to know me, but why’d she sell the stories, you know? If she loved me she wouldn’t have done that, and I don’t know how to reconcile that. I don’t know how to deal with that even though I’ve moved on, especially having to be constantly reminded of these things when I’m running down a street.”

 

A puff of air passes through Emma’s lips before she leans forward to speak, their hands still together on the center of the table. “I’m going to tell you what my dad told me after Neal, okay? Because I loved him too. Despite everything, after all of that, after all of the shit he put me through, I still loved him. I was on trial for a crime he accused me of committing, and a part of me still loved him. He betrayed me in such an awful way, and you know that I still hurt over it.”

 

“I do. I’m sorry.”

 

Emma nods her head up and down before she peers into his eyes, the emerald green practically drilling a hole through his skin. She’s making sure that he looks at her when she speaks, and he knows not to look away. 

 

“Just because she hurt you and used you doesn’t make the love you felt for her any less real. To you it was, and you’re allowed to grieve that. You’re allowed to both treasure that relationship and be hurt by it. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

 

“Your dad said that?”

 

“It’s a David Nolan speech, yeah,” she confirms, her teeth showing under her smile. “I’m pretty sure he also told me that Neal was an undeniable douchebag who didn’t deserve to so much as breathe the same air as me, but that didn’t really seem to be what you needed right now.”

 

“I would have been okay with that.”

 

Emma laughs a little bit, the sound wafting through the empty pub. “Me too. But babe, I know that it hurts to see her face, to have to be reminded of something that hurt you. I get it. You know I do, and if you want to have a day and bash her to me, I’m all for it. But you did get love out of that relationship, if only for a little while, and that’s a good thing. We all have baggage, and you help me carry mine. I can help you carry yours or this relationship is nothing more than some really good sex, and that’s not a relationship.”

 

His heart practically breaks through his ribcage with how quickly it’s beating. Those are the exact words he thought earlier. They’re a common turn of phrase, but still. She’s echoing things he’s been trying to convince himself of, and it only makes him feel more reassured of everything Emma just said. 

 

“I love you,” he whispers when he can’t think of anything else to say. “You’re just...you’re amazing, Emma.”

 

“I know.”

 

He barks out a laugh, the confidence in her voice never failing to amaze him

 

“I love you so much,” she continues, releasing his hand and getting up to slide into his side of the booth, something she only does when she’s about to kiss him. She doesn’t quite yet but she does lean into his side and rest her head on his shoulder as their thighs press together and her fingers fall to his upper thigh, probably a bit too high for the conversation they’re having. “You are such a good man who has so much love to give to others, and you keep doing it despite being betrayed so many times. That’s a brave thing to do, and I’m proud of you for it.”

 

“You’re too kind to me.”

 

“I could say the same about you.”

 

A shiver runs down his spine as she traces her nail in a circle over his thigh, inching closer and closer to his hip. “So I’m not crazy for being upset?”

 

“You’re not crazy for being upset, no. I know feelings aren’t really a thing in your family, but they are for us here even if I’m all prickly sometimes.”

 

“Only with people you don’t know. And sometimes you are with me. I mean, the first time we met you - “

 

“Hey,” she scoffs, hitting his leg, “you just said that our first meeting was a good one. You can’t take that back now.”

 

“I’m not, I’m not,” he promises, twisting his head to the side and kissing her temple, the saltiness of her skin after a long night at work reaching his lips. “It was a good one. You were very kind but also a little prickly, and I was a goner from the day that I had to wear your father’s sweats.”

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

“They were comfortable. If they hadn’t been, well, I might not have kept coming back.”

 

“So it wasn’t that hot blonde and the alcohol that brought you back?”

 

“Hot blonde? Somebody is confident about their looks.”

 

“You called me that,” she laughs, twisting in the booth and kneeing him in the side as she shuffles around to straddle his thighs, her back resting against the table while her hands cup his face. His fingers have grasped onto her hips, pulling her closer as he feels the soft skin above the waistband of her jeans. He can feel the muscles of her stomach twitch. 

 

“Did I? I don’t recall, though you are a rather attractive woman, so I can see myself complimenting you on how you look.”

 

She hums as her lips part and a full smile forms on her face, all of her teeth on display while her eyes crinkle the slightest bit. She’s beautiful, and he should tell her that more often. 

 

He’ll have to do that.

 

“I promise that you did,” she mumbles, dipping her head down to run her lips against his jaw, nibbling on the skin as another shiver runs down his spine, each vertebrae seemingly vibrating. This makes him feel so much better than he was feeling earlier. The talk probably did that too. Emma being there for him and not judging him definitely helped. “You’re a hot brunette, so it’s okay.”

 

He chuckles at that before twisting his head so he can find Emma’s lips with his, capturing her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. It’s simply lips against lips for a moment before Emma’s fingers card into his hair and tug a little while her teeth nibble at his bottom lip. He hears his groan come from the back of his throat, but he’s mostly focused on Emma’s little whimper and how his pants are tightening the slightest bit. She rolls her hips into his, and his tongue slides past her lips so that it can tangle with hers in a slick slide that has all of his gooseflesh returning. He could do this with her for hours. He wants to. He wants to stay holed up under the dim lights of this room with her for a long, long time. 

 

“Are your pants feeling a little tight there?” she gasps into his mouth, their lips still so close that they brush each other when she talks, as she keeps grinding herself against him. 

 

“That’s a weird way to ask if you’re arousing me.”

 

“I know,” she laughs, her hands falling from his scalp to his cheeks, “but I just wanted to let you know that if you come upstairs with me tonight, you can borrow a pair of dad’s sweatpants since that was apparently such a big selling point for you.”

 

His hands gently slap at her sides while he takes the opportunity to nip at her lip, soothing the sting with his tongue as he tries not to laugh. 

 

“Well, how could I ever pass up an offer like that?”

 


	8. Extra Scene: August 2026

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Emma finding out she's pregnant with Linnie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who continue to ask for and read more of the Second in Command universe! I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it! ❤️

The sun beats down on her skin as she’s stretched out on one of the lounge chairs by the lake. She’ll have to move under the umbrella soon so that she doesn’t get burned, but she’s just so comfortable resting here. Brennan and Allison have been spending more time here now that Brennan isn’t actively working as much as he nears his eighties, so they’ve updated as much of the furniture as they can while still making the place look as elegant as possible because that’s simply what they do (her house is a mess of toys on the ground with a stained couch cushion that’s been flipped over after the grape juice couldn’t be cleaned out, so elegance has never been high on her list of furniture needs) in this family. These lounge chairs with plush cushions may very well be her favorite thing on the property.

 

Modernity can be a good thing.

 

And she really likes their bed here. It’s like sleeping on one giant pillow when in reality they have at least fifteen pillows and three fluffy blankets. That’s all good with her, though, even when Andy somehow manages to force himself in there early in the mornings when she’s trying to rest. Going on holiday can be a little stressful when she’s always wrangling kids, but this is so much easier than traveling with them while working. They went to Canada two months ago, and it was an _experience_.

 

She’s almost entirely sure that Sutton cried on every plane that they took.

 

(She might have too.)

 

“Should we join them in the water?” Abigail asks her from her spot next to her. Emma lifts her brow in response, not bothering to take off her sunglasses to look at Abigail or in the direction of the water.

 

“It’s far too cold. I’m not entirely sure that the kids aren’t going to come back with pneumonia or something.”

 

“They’ll be fine. Liam and Killian won’t let them stay in for too long, especially Sutton.”

 

“Is she swimming or is Killian still holding onto her?”

 

“Killian’s holding her.”

 

A sigh passes through her lips before she sits up, having to take a few deep breaths to settle the dizziness that she’s feeling after having laid down for so long. Her eyes scan out to the lake where she sees Alex, Andy, and Lizzie taking turns jumping into the water, each of them doing different kinds of jumps before splashing in the water. It makes her a little nervous for Andy to be copying Alex, especially since he’s so much bigger, but that’s pretty much how things work when they’re all together. Andy doesn’t care about the size or age difference as long as he gets to spend time with his older cousins. They’re pretty good at accommodating him, but sometimes they do leave him behind to run off on their own. That always results in a meltdown, but it always passes.

 

Kids.

 

They’re ridiculous.

 

And exhausting.

 

She loves them.

 

“I’ll be back,” she tells Abigail before rising from the seat and stretching her arms above her head, letting the aches fade away as much as they can.

 

She has felt so under the weather for the past few days, but she’s thinking it’s mostly her body calming down from working so much this summer. She’s been more involved in Kidding a Goal and its new facilities and events, as well as picking up a few more patronages, and it’s been kind of exhausting balancing working, being a mom, wife, daughter, friend, and, frankly, a human being. She loves her life, what she does, but sometimes it’s exhausting trying to put on a happy face and spending her days talking to more people than she can probably count without losing track. It’s so rewarding getting to help people and organizations who need it, but like everything, it can take its toll.

 

Her life is blessed, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t experience hardships. That’s something Killian really had to help her with when she’d have a hard day and try to excuse it away by saying others had worse days, that she was too privileged to get to have a hard time. It’s true, but it doesn’t make the fact that she had an emotionally or physically exhausting day any less valid.

 

Right now, she’s mostly physically exhausted. Emotionally, she’s feeling pretty good.

 

She needed this time with her family. With Killian. God, if there’s anyone who she can spend time with without really needing a break, it’s her husband. That’s not to say that they don’t need time apart or get on each other’s nerves when they spend too much time together because those things most definitely happen, but a lot of the time she simply needs him to sit next to her on the couch in silence as they work on their laptops once the kids are asleep. It’s a comfortable companionship. He makes her feel comfortable when the rest of the world has her walking on a ledge.

 

Usually in heels.

 

What she would give to be able to wear jeans and sneakers more often.

 

Or slippers.

 

She’s a very old thirty three year old.

 

(Almost thirty four as Killian likes to remind her.)

 

“I thought you just said it was too cold.”

 

“I did,” she laughs, twisting her body and picking up her cover up before wrapping it over her, the thin material barely doing its job, “but Sutton is being clingy when we’re trying to get her to like swimming. It’ll help if I go down there.”

 

“Make sure my children still have all of their limbs, okay?”

 

“And if they don’t?”

 

“I don’t know. Let Liam worry about it.”

 

She chuckles at that, shaking her head as her feet move from the pavement to the soft grass. It only takes a minute to get to the lake, and no one notices her over the commotion that is Andy, Alex, and Lizzie all jumping off of the dock at the same time. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and wolf whistles, the sound loud enough that Sutton’s head whips toward her, Killian’s following right after.

 

“Mummy,” she squeals, releasing her arms from Killian’s neck only to grab on more tightly when she realizes that she might fall. She won’t. Killian’s got a good grip on her on top of her floaties. He’s not about to let her down. “Andy did a big jump.”

 

“Isn’t it so much fun?” she asks as she steps closer to the water, sitting down at the edge so that her feet just miss the lake, the coolness of the water somehow permeating through the air. “Don’t you want to go swimming with Daddy?”

 

“This little lady refuses,” Killian explains, hoisting her a little higher until she’s sitting on his shoulders, her feet hitting against his chest and the little bit of hair that’s peeking up above the water there. “Tell Mummy why you don’t want to go swimming, Button.”

 

Killian wades a little closer to her, his body coming out of the water little by little, and at that moment she swears there’s never been anything hotter than her husband soaking wet while he carries their daughter. It’s ridiculous and totally unfair, but she’s not going to complain. That would be dumb on her part.

 

She’s the one who gets to appreciate him and have him in her life. Forever.

 

Love and all that jazz.

 

“There was a fish.”

 

“A fish?”

 

“In the water,” she huffs, totally exasperated by the fact that she has to further explain herself. There’s so much sass in that little body, and it’s definitely payback or something for how she and Killian are. It has to be. She’s scared of what she’s going to be like when she gets older. “I don’t like fish.”

 

“You don’t have to eat it, baby,” she explains, smiling softly at Sutton whose lips are in a little toddler scowl.

 

She and Killian make some cute kids.

 

“Uncle Liam said I did.”

 

“Of course he did.” She turns to say something to Liam only to have him suddenly very interested in swimming away to be closer to the dock and to the rest of the kids who still don’t care that she’s shown up despite her cheering them on with her whistle. But who cares about Mom when there are jumps to be done? “He was just kidding. You don’t have to eat the fish, but wouldn’t it be so fun to get to swim with the fish?”

 

“Darling, that doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

 

“Hush,” she laughs at Killian’s waggling brows and upturned lips. “Sutton, if Mommy swims will you go swimming with us? You can hold onto me.”

 

She seems to think about her answer, her nose scrunching up as she debates on whether or not she wants to get into the water.

 

“No fish?” she questions, her green eyes glancing down at the water as it ripples with each of Killian’s movements.

 

“No fish,” Emma confirms, nodding her head and smiling while she sheds her cover up from her shoulders, the sunshine hitting her skin once more.

 

It’s going to be cold, the water. She knows it is. It’s not like it’s summer in Florida. It’s summer in Scotland, which is a whole different ballpark. She didn’t want to do this, but she does a lot of things for her kids that she would never do for anything else. This is probably the least gross or annoying if she’s honest with herself.

 

Stepping into the water, she lets her toes sink into the mud while her legs slowly disappear under the blue, goosebumps rising over her flesh the further she makes submerges herself. How Killian and Liam have been out here with the kids for an hour, she has no idea.

 

They must be immune to the cold by now because it’s taking everything in her to keep her teeth from chattering.

 

“Daddy, I want Mummy.”

 

“If the lady insists.”

 

“Come here, kid,” she sighs, reaching her arms out to take Sutton from Killian while she tries not to squirm at the chill in the water. She holds Sutton above the water as much as she can, but it’s difficult with her height, so she lets her toes dangle in the water, slowly but surely dipping her further in while she talks. “You know, one time your daddy made me eat a fish, and it was so gross.”

 

“He’s silly.”

 

“Hey now, Poppet,” Killian laughs, wading over to them so that his shoulders rest just above the water, blue eyes staring directly into their daughter’s, “I am not silly.”

 

He taps Sutton’s nose, and she scrunches it up again. Sutton is a pretty good mix of both of them, but when she does those little facial movements, all Emma can see is herself.

 

“You are silly,” Sutton insists, releasing her arm from Emma to tap Killian’s nose back. “Like a goose.”

 

“Do you hear this, love? I’m silly like a goose. I think Sutton is the silliest goose through.”

 

“Oh no. I definitely think Daddy is the silliest goose. Look at his face.”

 

“It’s funny,” Sutton giggles while Emma keeps lowering her into water, the kid not at all noticing.

 

“Funny?” Killian huffs, his face pressing back into his neck while his lips flatten into a straight line, looking about as unamused as possible as Sutton continues to laugh. “My face is not funny. I happen to know that I’m handsome, dashing even. Your mummy tells me so the one time a month that she’s nice to me.”

 

“Hey,” she scoffs, running her hand through the water and splashing Killian without really thinking about it, the water hitting him in his face, “that is not true, babe. I tell you that at least twice a month.”

 

“Yeah,” Sutton agrees, not really knowing what she’s agreeing to while her legs kick under the water, Emma’s arm still wrapped around her waist. “You’re pretty, Daddy.”

 

“Thank you, my little love,” he sighs, wiping the water from his brow before dipping his head down to press his lips against Sutton’s temple. It doesn’t make her heart swell. Not at all.

 

(It does.)

 

“You’re pretty too,” he promises, very gently and expertly taking her away from Emma and dragging her though the water in small circles while he continues to talk, “and very, very funny. I’d say you’re smart too and as sweet as one of Gammy’s cakes that we ate after dinner last night. And don’t tell Mummy, but you may very well be my favorite girl in the whole world.”

 

“The whole world?” she gasps, excitement shining through her eyes while she continues to move around.

 

“The whole world,” Killian promises, looking over at her and winking, his lips now curved into such a smile that all of the lines on his face are more prominent than before. “Now, tell me all about what you and Indy were doing last night under the dinner table. Indy’s stomach looked very full. Did she eat some of your peas?”

 

-/-

 

“They’re asleep,” she sighs later that night, plopping down onto the mattress and sinking into the blankets, a day full of sun and running around making her so exhausted that she doesn’t think she’ll ever move from this bed again. Not unless someone drags her kicking and screaming.

 

Killian hums from somewhere in the room. She’s sure that he’s close, but her eyes are closed. She doesn’t feel like opening them either. But then there’s the soft press of lips against her jaw, sharp pricks of scruff trailing behind it, and she can feel the familiar radiation of body heat hovering over her. She still doesn’t open her eyes, though. Instead she lets Killian run his mouth over her skin, kissing and nipping in all of the right places that have her sighing in contentment and that have him increasing his efforts. It feels so damn good, and if it were any other night she’d let it keep going and ride him until their limbs feel like jelly, but she’s tired and feeling a little bloated.

 

And she honestly can’t tell if her boobs feel weird because she’s kind of turned on her if it’s because her period should be starting in a couple of days.

 

“You are the most beautiful woman,” Killian whispers against her skin, punctuating each word with a kiss on different parts of her face, finally landing on her lips as he gently slides his mouth over hers, the softness overwhelming her. It feels too good to ask him to stop, so she doesn’t. “Today you had on a sinfully small bikini, and it was far too distracting while we were trying to get our daughter to swim.”

 

She chuckles at that before reaching her arms up and resting her hands on his back, her fingers trailing along the muscles while her eyes finally open, a deep blue gaze staring into her.

 

“You were most definitely not supposed to be thinking about that. We have children for goodness sakes.”

 

“How do you think we got those children?”

 

“Obviously a little stork dropped them off,” she laughs, arching her back up to further press herself into him while her right hand finds itself resting at the base of his neck, fingers toying with his hair. It’s gotten a little too long, but she loves it. He’s got this little section at the front where some strands fall across his forehead, and she’s kind of obsessed with them. He’ll have to cut it before he goes back to work, but she can appreciate it now. It makes him look boyishly handsome when he smiles, and she is forever charmed by him. “We don’t have sex. That’s not a thing that happens.”

 

“Definitely not. And I’m definitely not trying to do that right now.”

 

“I think I might be too tired,” she finally admits, flashing him a weak smile.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” she confirms before softly kissing him. “Maybe tomorrow. Today was exhausting.”

 

“I’m sorry you’re exhausted,” he says before rolling off of her and onto his back, the mattress moving under his weight. She twists to the side and props her head up on her hand so that she can face Killian. “Are you still feeling ill? You probably need to go to the doctor, love.”

 

“I’m fine. I don’t need to see anyone.”

 

“You’ve been exhausted for weeks. That’s not normal.”

 

“Killian, I’m fine.”

 

He huffs, and she knows he doesn’t believe her. His lips are pressed into a firm line, his brows furrowed together, and she reaches over to him with her free hand so that she can trail her fingers over his chest in an attempt to soothe him.

 

“I’d just feel better if you were to get checked out. If you’re sick, you need to get some kind of medication.”

 

“Babe, I’m not sick,” she promises, patting his chest. “It’s nothing. It’ll pass, and then I’ll be full of energy running around chasing Andy and Sutton.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“Killian.”

 

“What?”

 

“Why are you being so weird?”

 

“Because I’m worried about you. I can worry about you, can’t I? Am I not allowed to do that?”

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” she sighs, confusion coursing through her veins at his sudden harsh tone. His jaw is ticking, his eyes looking toward the doorway and not her, and she doesn’t know what’s happening. “Of course you’re allowed to worry about me. I’m just saying that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about it. I mean, at worst, I’m pregnant or something, but I’m definitely not dying.”

 

A heavy silence falls over them, the only sound the thump of the ceiling fan rotating over them, and her words begin to ruminate in her mind, settling there and settling between them. She’s not pregnant. She can’t be.

 

Or she can be.

 

She definitely could be. Her birth control would be super sucky if it’s true, but there’s always that small percentage. And she has forgotten before. She has, and it’s always something that worries her until her period comes along. She should probably get an implant so that she doesn’t have to worry about it anymore, but it might possibly be too late for that.

 

Pregnant.

 

Shit.

 

That’s not at all how she should be thinking about this, but with the way her heart is thumping against her ribcage, a small pulse of heat radiating over her body all the way down to her toes, it’s all she can think. They could have another baby. They could. It’s not like they couldn’t afford it or that they don’t have anyone to help out. They have each other, their parents, friends, Elsa. Of course, they may send Elsa running screaming if they bring another kid into the mix, even if Andy will officially be starting school soon and she won’t watch him as much.

 

That’s a whole other can of worms that she does not need to be opening now.

 

She could be pregnant.

 

Again.

 

Some of the signs are there. Her fatigue, her sore boobs, her lack of a period. She didn’t even realize that until now, too caught up in...life. She was too caught up in her life and in everything that’s been going on to even truly realize that her body has been more than tired.

 

She’s done this twice. How the hell could she not have noticed? Or known?

 

Technically she doesn’t even know now. She’s just speculating. That’s all that it is. It’s a small thought that seems to be festering into something bigger. It could be nothing.

 

She’s not sure that she wants it to be nothing.

 

And she has absolutely no idea how Killian feels about. He might not have even gone down this thought path. For all she knows, he’s still pissed at her for brushing off his concerns about her health. She gets it, does the same thing to him, but she knows her own body.

 

Kind of.

 

She might be pregnant after all and not have realized it until she told a really bad joke.

 

At least she’s not nauseous.

 

Yet.

 

“Are you?” Killian finally asks, the tepidness of his voice cutting through the tenseness and the silence of the room. He turns his head to face her, blue eyes widened with...something. It might be excitement or trepidation. She can’t tell. “Emma, love, do you think you’re pregnant? That would explain so much about the past few weeks.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Killian nods his head before reaching his hand over to cup her cheek, rough fingers caressing her skin. His thumb keeps moving back and forth under her eye, and it takes everything in her not close her eyes at how comforting his touch is. But she wants to see the look on his face, the brightness in his eyes, and the small smile that seems to be tugging on the corner of his lips.

 

She wants.

 

She thinks she might want this hypothetical baby no matter how terrifying all of this can be and has been in the past. She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget holding onto Killian’s hand and chanting over and over again “please let her be okay, please let her be okay, please let her be okay” when she was giving birth to Sutton. It was somehow more terrifying than when she gave birth to Andy, the knowledge and experience making her more anxious, but everything turned out just fine. She knows that it doesn’t always work out like that, and that terrifies her but...she doesn’t want to think about all of that right now.

 

“Should we go into town and go buy a test?”

 

“Killian, we cannot go into a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test.”

 

“Sure we can.”

 

He’s obviously lost his mind. Going into a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test is the absolute last thing that they can do. They have a hard enough time keeping their lives private. This would be walking out of privacy and into publicity.

 

“First of all, Thomas will never let us. And secondly, someone will see us and there’s bound to be a bunch of reports. I don’t want that because this is no one’s business but ours. And I’m not even entirely sure that I am. I mean, I’ve been pregnant before. Twice. I know how it works. But that doesn’t really mean anything when I - “

 

“Emma,” he coos, pulling her face a little closer to his. He’s got this look in his eyes, one she’s seen before, where the blue is a little bluer and the wrinkles around them somehow younger, almost resembling when they met thirteen years ago. He’s excited. He’s excited by the possibility that he’s going to be a dad again, that this unplanned thing may turn out okay, and she’s over here having some kind of potential meltdown mixed in with happy thoughts.

 

It makes sense though. She’s the one who has to be pregnant. All Killian has to do is rub her feet and listen to her bitch about heartburn.

 

God, the heartburn.

 

And the weird skin marks. And vomiting. And giant bellies that never quite go back to the way they were before. The birth. Just...everything about the birth.

 

That epidural stuff is good though.

 

As are the babies who grow up to be their own people. Andy and Sutton are the greatest, most beautiful thing she’s ever made, and she made them with her body and with the love she and Killian share. They’re so damn difficult sometimes, the uncertainty as to how to deal with crying fits and tempers is terrifying. How she and Killian act and parent them impacts them for the rest of their lives. They’ll already have so much to deal with because of who their dad is, and she just wants them to have good, normal childhoods like she had.

 

She wants them to be happy.

 

Because she loves them, would literally, actually die for those little munchkins, and seeing their smiles makes her entire day. Her entire life.

 

So maybe another baby wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe even good. Great. Fantastic.

 

Damn it.

 

She really wants another baby, for real this time, and she isn’t even completely sure if she’s pregnant or not yet.

 

Hopefully she is. And if she isn’t, maybe they could start trying. Killian wants this. She knows. Gone are his insurmountable fears of being a bad father because his influence was a horrible one for most of his life. Killian’s got to be the greatest dad in existence, probably even more so than her dad, and if he...if they want to do this again, they should get to do this again.

 

Her mind changed far too quickly, the thoughts all over the place. That’s either a bad thing or maybe a really, really good thing. Maybe it means that this baby, hypothetical or not, is a good thing. Maybe it means that she’s ready.

 

Maybe it means that one last time, and this will _definitely_  be the last time, she and Killian can go through all of the wonderfully terrifying moments of being parents to a newborn where everything is so small and terrifying and refreshingly innocent.

 

How things change from when she was younger and never could have imaged her life being like this, could have never imagined wanting this.

 

Kids are really gross sometimes. Why people want them is still a mystery to her, even if she is one of those people who wants kids.

 

The things you do for love.

 

She and Killian make some damn cute babies. Seriously. They’re pretty much the best.

 

And her oldest baby is almost five and that’s decidedly not a baby anymore.

 

Nope. She already told herself that she wasn’t going there.

 

She’s got this kind of nervous energy running over her, an anticipatory buzz, and when she focuses back on Killian and the way his lips are ticked up on the right, his eyebrow raised with them, her skin suddenly feels like a livewire. She’s nervous and scared and a little anxious, but she wants this.

 

“Emma,” Killian repeats, his thumb still moving against her face, “are you okay?”

 

“I’m currently thinking about the state of my vagina, but yeah, I’m great.”

 

Killian snorts before pressing forward and softly kissing her, moving his lips against hers over and over again. “Do you want to go find out? I’m pretty much an expert at hiding out in public so that no one notices us. You’d be surprised what a baseball cap and sunglasses can do.”

 

“Okay Captain America. We’ll just look like we’re robbing the pharmacy because it’s dark outside.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

She’s not entirely that this plan is going to work, and for their entire drive into town, even with Killian’s fingers resting on her thigh the entire time, she wonders just how spectacularly this is going to blow up in their faces. It has to, doesn’t it? She has a lot of good things in her life, but the one thing that she does not have a lot of the time is privacy. For someone who has never wanted a life in the spotlight and who happened to fall in love with someone who was born under those bright lights, it’s all been a bit of a culture shock even so many years later. She’s pretty comfortable with things now, but it’s not like she can wander into a pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test without someone realizing who she is.

 

Freaking ridiculous.

 

But that’s exactly what she and Killian do, quickly sliding in and out of the store, using the self check out to buy several tests and a few bags of candy for the two of them.

 

Okay, really for her.

 

She’s kind of feeling like stress eating, and if she’s going to be carrying a baby for the next seven to nine months of her life, she can have some damn chocolate.

 

But only a little. Moderation and all.

 

“It’s nice out here,” Killian tells her as they walk hand in hand through the streets of the town, her sneakers pressing over the cobblestone. “It’s very…”

 

“Ancient.”

 

“Aye, exactly,” he laughs, squeezing her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. How in the world is that so soothing? Seriously. It’s like some kind of weird drug. “I vote that we sneak away from our house and our kids far more often, and that maybe, _just maybe_ , we get up to a few naughty things.”

 

“Hm, like what?”

 

“I’ve always wanted to make out with you in an alleyway. That doesn’t seem gross or dangerous at all.”

 

“We’ve done that.”

 

“Have we?”

 

“I am a damn good kisser, baby,” she gasps, turning to look up at him. He’s got his brows furrowed together, all of the lines on his forehead bunching, and she realizes that he’s actually trying to remember this moment. “And I really feel like you should remember me dry humping you in the alleyway behind the pub.”

 

“I seriously don’t remember, love. How old were we?”

 

“I...have no idea. All I know is that my parents were working with me that night, and we snuck out the side door for a moment alone because you kept whispering particularly dirty things in my ear whenever I walked by you.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

 

“I know. You never talk like that.”

 

“Never,” he whispers, leaning down to talk directly in her ear, his scruff brushing against her skin and his teeth biting down on her lobe. “I find I don’t need to when the most alluring woman on the planet has already fallen for my charming ways.”

 

“You’d do well to keep the most alluring woman on the planet then.”

 

“Well, I do know that she falls apart under my touch, so I’ve got that going for me. But she also finds me funny and kind and far smarter than I am. I’m also a good father to her children, or so I like to think.”

 

“You are,” she reassures him, releasing his hand so that she can wrap her arms around his neck as he pushes her back against a storefront, her back hitting a stone wall. “You’ll be a good one to this third one too, if there is a third one.”

 

“I think we have the means to find out.”

 

“I thought we were going to make out in this alleyway first.”

 

He chuckles before dipping his head to kiss her temple, not her lips. “My wife deserves far better than to be kissed against a building.”

 

“We’ve done it before.”

 

“You weren’t my wife then.”

 

“Ha,” she laughs, leaning her head back and looking up at the sparkling blue that’s staring down at her. “So what? I wasn’t as important then?”

 

“Exactly, my love.”

 

Killian does kiss her then, and it makes her toes curl in pleasure before he convinces her that they need to go back home and to their suite before anyone realizes that they’re gone, before their kids wake up and need them. She’d somehow almost forgotten the real reason for their little adventure, but the entire ride back she’s a mix of nerves and excitement itching to get back to a bathroom so that she can take one of these tests.

 

Or probably all of them.

 

After they get back, she immediately heads to the bathroom, unwrapping the box and taking the test before placing it on the counter and walking the few feet to settle down onto Killian’s lap as he sits on the cushioned bench in the entryway of the bathroom.

 

“I’m nervous,” she mumbles into his shoulder, holding onto his neck as his hands move up and down her back, nails tracing random patterns into her skin. “Are you nervous?”

 

“Bloody terrified. We didn’t plan this.”

 

“We thought about it, though. We just...never decided. We were still in the talks, and they’d decidedly been put on hold.”

 

“That’s how it happened with Andy, darling.”

 

“Yeah,” she sighs, pressing her lips into his collarbone, “that’s true. He’s the best.”

 

“Absolutely. I love him.”

 

“Sutton too.”

 

“Of course. She’s going to give me hell one day.”

 

“One day? It’s not happening now?”

 

“Not in the way I’m thinking,” he laughs, moving his hand up beneath her shirt, his skin impossibly warm, while she adjusts her legs. She can already feel him messing with her bra. Cheeky bastard. “I’m thinking she’s going to pull a few stunts like we just did.”

 

“Sneak out to go buy a pregnancy test.”

 

“God I hope not. I was simply thinking of her trying to sneak out. I bet she’ll move into the bedroom with the trellis outside the window and climb down so that she doesn’t have to walk past our bedroom or use the front door.”

 

“Security will see her.”

 

“Most likely. I believe that’s the best perk of having them around. They’ll work out all of the kinks with Andrew.”

 

“Yeah, he’s our test child.”

 

“Exactly.” Killian kisses the crown of her head, and she wonders if she could fall asleep right here in his arms. “It’s time to go check.”

 

“Already?” she whines, pulling back and pouting, knowing that she’s acting a bit pathetic. “I’m not ready.”

 

“Sure you are,” he promises, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear and tapping his thumb against her cheek three times. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met, and you can handle anything.”

 

“Charmer.”

 

Killian’s lips curl into a smirk, eyebrows moving across his forehead. “You did tell me I had to work to keep the most alluring woman on the planet.”

 

“You’re doing a good job.”

 

She makes the effort to take a few deep breaths before rising from Killian’s lap and walking over to the counter so that she can see the test. In the twenty seconds that it takes her to look, it’s confidently, finally, _officially_  settled in her that she wants this, wants this baby, and wants to do this one more time with the love of her life.

 

The positive sign on the test tells her that she gets to.


	9. Extra Scene: March 2028

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I loved seeing Killian so caring and concerned when Emma was hurt (cutting herself at the pub and collapsing on stage). Worried Killian is too adorable. I'd love to see something where Killian is away on a work trip and he gets a call one of the kids had an accident (of course they are ultimately fine in the end with no lasting damage, just lots of extra love from mom and dad.)

Killian’s guided around the facility, several different people telling him the ins and outs of what they do every day and what is done when they’re deployed overseas. No matter how many times he’s heard it before, it’s all a bit overwhelming to him to have to hear about the military and their daily tasks, especially when he knows that he should have been a member of the Royal Navy after he graduated from University, but it’s honestly mostly the emotions behind it all. He’s heard several stories about the loss of loved ones or serious, life-changing injuries today, and it makes his stomach twist in uncomfortable knots. These people are protecting him, protecting his family and the families of everyone in the nation, and all he does is take guided tours and cut ribbons to open new physical therapy offices.

 

Really, he knows that he does more, knows that he does actually help and do good, but after listening to someone tell him how much of an ache it is to miss the birth of his daughter and most of her formative years, he can’t help the nagging feeling that’s settling within him. He can’t imagine missing the birth of any of his three children or missing so much of their lives when he already feels like he’s missing so much of them when he is home as often as he can be and more than most working parents.

 

Linnie turned one two days ago, and he’s still not over it. That’s his smallest little love, and she’s technically a toddler. He’s not sure if he believes in the fact that once a baby turns one, they’re no longer a baby, but then again, his rambunctious six-and-a-half year old lad is still his baby.

 

He’s getting sappier in his old age.

 

Who is he kidding? He’s always been sappy when it comes to his children.

 

When he finishes touring the facility, cataloguing stories he’s told and improvements that need to be made, he loads up in the backseat of the car and lets Thomas start the hour-long drive home while he makes notes over ways that he’d like to personally help more. He knows that nearly everything on this list will get rejected, that he’ll be stretching himself too thin, but it’s at least worth the effort to maybe get one or two things approved.

 

If Emma doesn’t absolutely veto everything since he’s already been taking on more than strictly necessary.

 

Emma is most definitely going to veto him.

 

“Have a good weekend with your family, mate,” he tells Thomas when he’s dropped off at home, the car parked on the cobblestone pathway that leads to their front door.

 

“You too, sir. Please tell Sutton thank you again for the lovely pictures she drew me.”

 

“Aye, I will,” he laughs, getting out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

 

He can’t hear the sounds of anyone playing outside, so he figures that Emma has them all inside for dinner. Quickly, he makes his way to the front door, typing in the code for their security system before stepping into the entryway so that his shoes hit against the dark hardwood the fills most of their bottom floor. He can hear Sutton talking, her little voice carrying from what he thinks is the kitchen, and he smiles a bit to himself knowing that she’s going to come running up to him the moment she realize he’s home.

 

It’s the little things that make his day. To be loved so deeply by someone that their entire day is made simply by him coming home is…everything. 

 

But before he can even make his way to the kitchen, he’s intercepted in the hallway by his wife who looks as beautiful as always but a little worse for wear with her un-brushed hair and smudged makeup with her lounge clothes from this morning still on.

 

“Hi, beautiful,” he greets, stretching his lips into a smile while he dips his head down to capture his lips with hers, his hands finding their place on her hips while he tastes the bit of chocolate on her. “How are you?”

 

“I’m fine. I just – ” She looks up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth, a little worry in her eyes, and he gets that familiar twisting in his stomach that he felt earlier. But worse. Far, far worse. “Don’t freak out.”

 

Shit. That’s never good. No one has ever told him not to freak out and then he has proceeded to not freak out.

 

He always freaks out.

 

“Emma, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing is wrong,” she promises, sliding her hands up to rest on his chest. “I mean, technically something is wrong, but it’s not a big deal. I just don’t want you to freak out.”

 

“What happened?” he insists, squeezing her hips a little more tightly to encourage her to speak.

 

“Okay so – ”

 

“Daddy,” Andy screeches, running toward the two of them at full speed, and over Emma’s shoulder he can see that Andy’s right arm is wrapped in a blue cast.

 

What in the world? That worry that had settled within him twists up again, really burning to blazing new heights, and his eyes glance toward Emma only for her to lean forward and rest her forehead against his shoulder for the briefest of moments before she pulls back.

 

“Daddy, will you sign my cast?” Andy asks with a bright smile on his face, his front tooth missing even if it is growing back the tiniest bit. He looks ridiculous, but honestly somehow Andy is even more persuasive with things than he was before.  

 

“I want to draw on it,” Sutton shouts as she follows in behind Andy. And if Linnie could walk, he’s sure she would be just behind Sutton.

 

“I want Daddy to sign it first, Sutton.”

 

“You already let Mummy draw on it.”

 

“That’s because she’s Mummy.”

  
  
“Well, I’m Sutton,” she huffs, placing her hands on her hips with all of the might that a four-year-old shouldn’t have.

 

His daughter isn’t any four-year-old.

 

“Woah, woah,” he sighs, his eyes not sure where to focus, so he leans down and picks Sutton up, kissing her cheek before he squats down in front of his son to look at his arm and make sure it really is there underneath his cast. “Would somebody like to tell Daddy what happened to Andy’s arm before I sign any casts? Huh?”

 

“Well,” Andy starts, shaking his head and flicking back his black hair because it needs a trim, “I was on the playground at school, and Oliver and I were playing Pirate Captain, which is really cool because I got to be the Captain.”

 

“Of course. Who else would you be?”

 

“I don’t know. I also like being the guy who gets to steer the ship.”

 

“That’s fun too, lad,” he encourages, putting Sutton on the ground and watching Emma walk into the other room with Sutton following behind her, mumbling something about her wanting to be a pirate captain too. His children are insane, and he still needs to see Linnie. She’s likely in her play pen. God, he hopes she’s not simply crawling around with no one watching her. They don’t need any more broken bones. “But how did we get the broken arm?”

 

“Oh, I fell.”

 

“Off of what, lad?”

 

Andy shrugs his shoulders, his smile still just as bright as it was in the beginning, and he wonders just how crazy everything was without him today. Seriously. His son has somehow broken a bone while at school, and he’s only finding out about it hours later. How did no one tell him? Why did no one tell him?

 

“The monkey bars,” Andy sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. “I was pretending to climb up the sails, and I fell super far down onto the ground. It hurt. Like, a lot, but then Mrs. Simon came and got me, and I got to go to the hospital like last year when Linnie came out of Mummy’s tummy and was all red and squishy and gross.”

 

Indy walks into the hallway then, her tail wagging and Sutton’s favorite doll in her mouth, and he wonders if their house could be any more chaotic. Then again, he doesn’t know what’s going on in the other room with Emma and the girls.

 

Quickly, he reaches to stratch behind Indy’s ears to try to get her to drop the doll. When she does, he picks it up, ignoring the slobber and sticking it in his coat pocket. These trousers are really too tight for him to be squatting down this long, and honestly, he’s not sure that they won’t rip when he stands up.

 

That would be the cherry on top of today, really.

 

“Are you okay, buddy?” he asks Andy, reaching forward to push his hair off his forehead while his eyes scan Andy’s face to make sure that there aren’t any other injuries. He can’t believe any of this. This was…his children aren’t supposed to get hurt. He knows it’s going to happen, that it’s life, but he wants to forever keep them safe in his arms like he did when they were infants. “Does it still hurt? Did Mummy give you any medicine?”

 

“Yeah.” He sticks his tongue out. “It was nasty.”

 

“I bet it was.”

 

“She also let me have an extra biscuit before dinner.”

 

“Ahh,” he chuckles, shaking his head a bit before he leans forward to brush his lips over Andy’s forehead. “Why don’t we go in the kitchen then? Get some of that dinner in your belly.”

 

“Are you going to sign my cast?”

 

“Of course, but you have to let your sister draw on it too.”

 

His nose scrunches up at that, but he does end up nodding his head up and down in affirmation.

 

When he and Andy make their way into the kitchen, Indy following at their ankles, Sutton is sitting in the cushioned nook surrounded by windows that give them a view out into the pool and the garden. She seems to be picking at her plate of pasta, while Emma is currently trying to keep pureed carrots off of Linnie’s high chair and in her mouth. It doesn’t seem to be working. But these are their nights, so he fixes himself and Emma a plate of something to eat, helping Andy along the way, before he joins his wife and his kids at the table, the conversation loudly flowing as Andy decides to continuously retell the story of his broken arm, each retelling getting a bit more dramatic, while Sutton has to share about her own day and how she had to miss ballet class. Linnie only babbles, but he imagines she’s wondering if she can somehow trade out families for a quieter one.

 

He can nearly guarantee it.

 

After dinner, he and Emma split up getting everyone to bed, bath time the thing that still consumes most of their night, even more so now since Andy’s cast can’t get wet, but after he gets Sutton to sleep, he moves down the hall to Andy’s room, opening up the door and peeking inside at him lining up all of his trains on the table. He’s so much like Emma sometimes, but then he does little things like that, and all Killian can see is himself. It’s the oddest thing.

 

He quite likes it.   
  


“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, lad?”

 

“In a minute,” he responds, not bothering to turn around as he switches two trains on the table.

 

“Andy.”

 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, fixing one last thing before he quickly makes his way into his bed, climbing up on the mattress and tucking himself in while Killian settles down on the other side of the bed, propping his socked feet up over the navy comforter.

 

“Do you want me to read you a story?”

 

“Can you make one up?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I may be out of all of my made up stories.”

 

“Dad,” he whines, scooting down further into the bed until Killian can only see the bridge of his nose that’s covered with freckles and the blue of his eyes partially hidden under dark lashes. “You can’t be out.”

 

“But what if I am? What if I have no stories left in me?”

 

“Then you need to go get Mummy.”

 

Killian chuckles to himself and folds his hands together before placing them on his stomach, looking up at the ceiling fan for a moment while he clicks his tongue. He needs to dust in Andy’s room. He needs to dust in all of the rooms now that he thinks about it. “Hmm, so fifteen years ago on a dark and stormy night a young prince was running away from his family. You see, they’d gotten into a rather big fight.”

 

Andy shifts in bed again, turning onto his side so that he faces Killian with half of his face squished into a pillow. “About what?”

 

“They wouldn’t let him have chocolate for dinner.”

  
  
“I’d fight about that too.”

 

“I know you would,” he chuckles, unclasping his hands to reach over and brush Andy’s hair back since he knows that it’s soothing. His cast is resting on top of his comforter, Killian’s scribbled “Daddy” with a drawing off Indy prominent next to Emma’s neat script and Sutton’s rather messy one, though not as messy as the scribble that Linnie added. He can’t believe Andy hurt himself so badly. “So the prince was caught in the rain, and he needed a place to go so he wouldn’t get sick, and there, in the dark night he found this shining yellow light.”

 

“What was it?”

 

“Well, another magic castle of course.”

 

“Was it big like the prince’s castle?”

 

He’s never going to get through a story with his son asking every question in the book, but this is always what happens when Andy asks him to make up a story instead of reading on in a book full of pictures. And maybe he’s copping out by telling a fantasized story of how he and Emma met, but he’s tired. He’s tired and there’s only so much he can do.

 

He likes the days where he gets to read actual books.

 

“It was smaller, but oftentimes smaller things mean so much more. Houses don’t have to be big to be special, lad. And that’s what happened here because inside this small castle with the glowing yellow light was a fair maiden.”

 

“What’s a maiden?”

 

“A girl.”

 

“A pretty one?”

 

“Aye, but she was also very smart and funny, which are two very important things, my boy, and she was very kind to the soaked prince because she gave him dry clothes and food and a place to spend his time until the rain disappeared.”

 

“Do the girl and the prince fall in love?” Andy gasps, very obviously knowing enough about fairy tales to get where Killian is going with this even if their life is not a fairy tale. He likes it that way, but they do have a damn good story.

 

“You bet they do.”

 

It takes about five minutes before Andy is drifting off to sleep, his lashes landing against his cheeks, and Killian leans over to kiss his forehead. “I love you,” he whispers, lingering a bit before propping a pillow under Andy’s cast, hoping that he doesn’t roll too much tonight. But Andy is a heavy sleeper, always has been since he got past his infant days, so Killian is able to quietly leave the room, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him as he walks toward his own bedroom.

 

Emma isn’t in bed yet, so he’s not surprised to find her in the bathroom standing over her vanity rubbing some sort of cream into her face. He knows that she knows he’s in the room, but he quietly steps up behind her anyways, wrapping his arms around her stomach and resting his hands there while he buries his nose in her neck, peppering a few kisses there and breathing her in like he’s longed to do all day. He stays still while she keeps moisturizing her face, only moving to rest his chin on her shoulder when she pats his hands against her stomach.

 

“So, anything exciting happen to you today?” he jokes, the exhaustion hitting him in a way that he knows must have hit Emma hours ago.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when it happened, Killian. I – ” She looks at him in the mirror and leans her head back against his cheek while her eyes close for the briefest of moments. “I got the call while I was feeding Linnie. Like, I legit had my boob out feeding one kid while Sutton was running around with her ballet outfit on backwards, and I get this call from the school saying there’s an accident. I think my heart stopped beating. I know that I stopped breathing.”

  
  
“I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, kissing her shoulder. “I can’t imagine how terrifying that must have been.”

 

“It was awful. I mean, she said accident, and I lost my mind. I could barely understand anything after that, barely heard that he had hurt his arm and that the school nurse figured it was broken, but I was grabbing the kids and rushing out the door. He was so brave, babe. I mean, his face was all red and puffy, but once he calmed down, he was just awesome. He thought it was the coolest thing, and I was a complete and total mess thinking about him being hurt.”

 

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come home immediately. Surely you know that.”

 

“I didn’t want to worry you until I had to. I knew today was important to you, and honestly, until about the time when you texted me that you were coming home, I figured I didn’t have to worry you until you actually got home. There was no point in making you suffer in that car.”

 

He hums, not really sure what to say but knowing what he wants to say. “Darling, if one of our kids was hurt, and I didn’t call you right away, you realize you would murder me, right?”

 

“I definitely would.”

 

“So maybe next time one of our children gets hurt, because it is going to happen again, you don’t worry about carrying that burden all on your own, yeah? We got married for many a reason, but one of my favorites ones is sharing the burdens.”

 

“In that case there’s a really nasty spaghetti sauce stain on the carpet in the living room, and I need you to get it out.”

 

Killian chuckles against her before moving his hands off of her stomach and encouraging Emma to turn around until her hands are wrapped around his neck and his hands are inching ever so close to her ass, fingers nearly there. “I am always here to get your spaghetti sauce stains out.”

 

“How do you know I made the stain?”

 

“Because you never would have let the kids in the living room with marinara sauce.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on Tumblr at [let-it-raines](https://let-it-raines.tumblr.com/)! Feel free to stop by and send me a message or a request for an extra scene!


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